KINGSLEY, ACARIO OTHERO

[acario]

N A M E KARMA!
C O N T A C T S acario is the USERNAME, KARMAXX is my chatango. pm me for my email!
O T H E R . C H A R A C T E R S none yet.
R A N D O M . F A C T i'm turning seventeen next month! <3

N A M E Acario Othero Kingsley.
N I C K N A M E S Whatever you wish.
A G E Twenty-three.
B I R T H D A T E October Third.
G E N D E R Male.
S E X U A L I T Y Bisexual.
O C C U P A T I O N He just goes around and does odd jobs as needed. During the summer, he sells fireworks he stole, but that's it. He's homeless, often going door-to-door looking for a place to sleep that night. He lives in the wonderful carthonia west.
M A G I C ?
--PAIN MANIPULATION: one of the two powers that our dear acairo has acquired, and currently, the msot advanced one; thoguh with a perosn like him who prefers not to use his magick too mcuh, that isn't saying much. He could easily create an itch in a erson, with little to no effort; Or a searing pain, Like fire burning through a persons veins, that cripples them, leavign them unable to move against the horrible pain, However, it is not all powerful; He cannot go past that, and the more pain he gives, th more energy it takes form him. While higher level pain maniulators could send someone into shock and kill them, he cannot; In fact, too much of his power could drain enough energy from him to kill him form the pure exhaustion from doing it. Most of the time, he will never use this willfully, instead it comes out in time sof anger. At most, he could make a small crowd crippled in pain, at his expense.

--NECROMANCY: His second power, and a weaker one than his first, but certianly more stable. When he does this, it is always willfully; Never against his will, even if it doesn;t always work. He typically uses this to scare away enemies without actually hurting them, by reanimating the bodies of the dead. It's much easier for him to reanimate animals, maybe about five at a time if he's feeling lucky that day. But humans are always a challenge, and he can only create two udnead at a time. They are part of a hivemind, controlled by him and his emotions, and likewise they are affected by them. If ACario is angry, they will become violent and bloodthirsty. Mos tof the time, though, they are benevolent, if somehwat mindless. DUe to his low level of necromancy, his particular reanimated tend to be slower, more lethargic than those of hgiher level necromancers.


ADMIN CLASSIFICATIONS
Pain Manipulation -- Level 2 -- Class C
Necromancy -- Level 2 -- Class A

H E I G H T 6' 1"
W E I G H T 186 lbs.
B U I L D A slim, swimmer's build; not exactly a mass of muscle, but not quite a twig, either. Basically, he could stand his ground in a fight if it was needed. He certainly doesn't use it, though, and luckily he has a good heart to him. even if times are rough.
E Y E S Soft, marsh green framed by thick lashes, eyes neither too big or too small; in the shape of wide, tall ovals.
H A I R He tends to keep it short, and styles it very neatly, often just brushing it against his forehead. He's not the type to worry about his hair, and the same could not be said of the other males of carthonia, long greasy tendrils disgusting him so. The color seems to be eternally iridescent, and his eyes still haven't decided whether it is blond or brown.
I D E N T I F I E R S Acario prefers to keep his skin the way god intended; devoid of piercings and ink staining into his. skin. He has some piercings in some less than traditional places, but chances are you aren't going to see them.
A P P E A R A N C E More often than not, you can find acario sitting down, never one to walk alot. Though a kind person, he can't help that no one ever taught him proper posture. He positions himself as needed for the current situation. Hell if he's going to stand up straight while someone is trying to mug him.

L I K E S
"a place to rest. This seems to be getting more and more rare. People just don't seem as open as they sued to be to letting a guy they don't know sleep in their house.
"money. Oh, he's a greedy bastard when he comes to this. But cna you blame him? Money is how people live, and he's running low on it. Unfortunately, he seems to spend it faster than he can get it.
"kindness. He's actually pretty nice, and expects the same from you. Hopefully mutual respect isn't too much to ask, but he'll probably be proven wrong by a bitchy noble.
"warmth. He hates being cold, can't stand it. There's nothing more uncomfortable to him than the harsh feel of ice against his skin. This is relating to his mother and father's deaths, who died due to the harsh, cold elements of ice and snow.
"food. Acario is a bit of a glutton; The way he eats rivals that of a starving wolf, scarfing down anything he can get his hands on, as long as it's good. If he wasn't gifted with his particular metabolism, he'd probably be morbidly obese.
D I S L I K E S
"his powers. Though those gifted with magick would typically make use of it, Acario is not one of them. He doesn't like causing people pain. He only uses it in the most dire of situations, if at all. as for necromancy, he rarely uses it, more jsut to scare people away, or bring back loved ones of people he trusts.
"goverment. Acario is a bit of an anarchist; he believes that no one has the right to simply step up and say they have power. He tries to avoid them and any royals, if possible.
"hate, prejudice. Unlike most, Acario isn't one to involve himself in rivalries, especially those between other countries, though the ones between people tend to be more personal and he avoids them just alike. He likes to remain neutral on most things that don't directly involve him.
"being homeless. To him, there are no perks to being homeless. It's simply the cards he was dealt, and he's trying hard to change that, but he's starting to accept the fact that he's probably going to die homeless as well. More than that, he hates being looked down upon.
"defeat. He is confident he'll win most fights. it would be smart to let him just win; Come on, he doesn't need a crushed ego atop of everything else in his life.
F E A R S
"the deities. Despite everything, Acario's parents raised them to the best of their ability. He is a very spiritual person, a fears the deities as it should be, the creatures so powerful. When he can, he does make time to walk his way over to Nero's temple, the only one available in carthonia west.
"ice&snow. This, connected to his hatred of the cold, is due to the nature of his parents death. He fears, almost senses, that he is doomed to suffer the same fate as them; Only more horrible, as he is probably going to do so without the warm comfort of having a lover by his side.
"people. Some may consider Acario 'kind', some may not, but the point is, he tries. Like a wild animal, one should approach him with caution; Never one to pick a fight, but always one to defend himself if threatened. Likewise, he's not good with social situations. Not socially awkward, perse, but it's his personal choice to separate himself form the world, which has come to proven itself distrustful to him.
"love. He has to be cautious when it comes to love, and he's lived his entire life trying to avoid all those beautiful men and women that danced in his eyes so elegantly. While a powerful thing, he believes that this is what brought the end to his mother an Father, their powerful bond towards one another. In truth, it's the warmth that kept them alive a few more hours.
S T R E N G T HS
"fighting. As said, Acario tries to act as a pacifist or as a neutral to most conflicts, and he certainly doesn't go around picking fights just to entertain himself. But they've happened obviously; Mostly from greedy nobles and drunks with nothing better to do. When it comes right down to it, he is Rather good at fighting.
"antisocial. While some may perceive this as a negative thing, he views it as one of his best traits; There are no constants in his life, no one he wakes up to to see every morning, not a warm house to shield him form the harsh winters and blazing summers. He doesn't really get attached to anything, especially people, mostly out of fear of losing it. Truth be told, he's gotten sued to it, He no longer desires human company, but welcomes it (with caution) if it does come.
"brave. Always. though it may seem like alot of fears plague him, he is always willing to stand tall against them if the moment calls for it, proud to defeat them. He'd be an excellent warrior, if he was allowed to be.
W E A K N E S S E S
"naivety. Acario, being homeless, often goes door-to-door, asking people if he could stay the night. This seems to have resulted with him becoming too trusting,. only seeing the best in people, with numerous occasions in which he was almost killed.
"curious. Acario, while not having received a proper education, is by no means stupid. He constantly seeks books, knowledge in his free time, which unfortunately isn't much. He is constantly eager to learn new things, and his curiosity always seems to get the best of him. He find sit foolish to resist the temptation, and usually satisfies it anyways.
"bad luck. Whether this is the work of a curse weaver or not, he'll never know, but he imagines the deities look upon him with a burning glare. In most situations, it seems that trouble and drama are drawn his way like moths to a flame -- something he can't exactly help.
Q U I R K S
"clacking his teeth. Just a habit, especially during times of boredom and impatience that he does, clicking his teeth teeth against each other. Wouldn't make his dentist too happy, if he had one.
"drugs. Acario loves to indulge himself in the chemicals that intoxicate him so. One can find many scars in which syringes have poked and prodded at his skin.
G O A L S
"to get a house. One day. It isn't too ambitious of a dream, either, and humility is with him. He doesn't expect to be living a life of royalty, but all he really wants is place to call his own.
"to live to see the next day. It's hard, living on the rough streets of Anbelad. Once, again, nothing too ambitious here; Acario isn't one to ask for much.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Acario was brought into this world by two poverty stricken lover,s blissfully unaware that romance itself could not help them through this world, and was always crushed under the foot of the almighty dollar. Owning nothing more than the ground that he walked on and the clothes on his back, the boy quickly learned the value of money. He learned that if you smile gently and kiss the noble folk's shoes and worship them as if they were deities in their own right, people would seem to be flattered enough to give you anything you desire, provided it doesn't simply go to their heads. Right from the start, the boy was s a people pleaser, destined to make others feel happy. But as he learned, people weren't exactly as nice as he was. He became distrusting, antisocial, hating people but never missing a chance fr a quick buck. That's how the streets have molded our dear Acario, and he isn't going to change anytime soon.

F A M I L Y
--MADELEI ANA KINGSLEY, nee LOVELAND, MOTHER (DECEASED)
--XANTHUS CAINE KINGSLEY, FATHER (DECEASED)
--CU SITH, PET (WOLF), THREE YEARS OLD
P L A C E . O F . B I R T H Acario was born in the city of Anbelad, in the kingdom of west Carthonia. Like any large, important city, poverty is never an uncommon thing, and dear Acario was born into it; His parents nothing more than street urchins who were held together merely by the love in their eyes. But love doesn't take you far when it comes to money, it seems.
H I S T O R Y
Love. Love is what held them together so stronger from the very beginning. The story was as old as time itself; Forbidden love, a Niendran and a Carthonian having a mere chance meeting in Carthonia South. Their love defied laws, and it was what kept them together so strongly until the very end. If only they could have known it would have left a child so broken, so torn asunder by it years later.

Xanthus was doing his usual business, in the deserts of Carthonia, which were getting harder and harder to trespass as tensions grew stronger between the nations. Stealing items form the shifty townsfolk, knowing it was crafted by Carthonian hands, fascinated and disgusted all the same. His opinion on them wasn't the best, but that was before he met Madelei. Like him, she was merely up to her usual day; Avoiding her father, a tyrant with no power, and her disdain towards him was as deep as her heart would allow. Soft green eyes met hers ad midst the blowing desert sands, fire spiraling through the air, and they knew they were destined for each other, as it seemed like fireflies were dancing about in their chests. They took off, as fast as they could, to Carthonia West where they would never be recognized.

There, their love flourished, even though they had nothing. Xanthus was an illegal citizen there, and Madelei would not risk going back to her father, in fear of being killed, more literally than she would have wished. They had no options. They lived there lives as street urchins, a parasite upon people's pockets, trying to get whatever money they needed to survive the day. Crime was a similar thing to them, and it was in time that they would get caught.

Unfortunately, Madelei was pregnant. Her belly full and ready to burst, she had the child right there in an alleyway, people snickering at her expense even as she was nearing death, losing more and more blood by the second. Luckily, she lived through it, and the child was bron, and his name was 'Acario', meaning 'ungrateful'; How his parents had predicted he would turn out, but they couldn't have been more wrong.

Unable to take care of another human being, they left it on someones doorstep, and quickly headed off to the North. However, as they waisted away, hands linked as they succumbed to the harsh winter, no one was taking the child. He was being fed, sure; The townsfolk would go out and make sure he got the food needed, but no one would actually come and claim little Acario as their own. That';s the way it stayed, until he was old enough to fend for himself. Old enough being four years old, when he became nothing more than a nuisance and truly, no one gave a fuck anymore. He was off on his own already, on a path of thievery and tricks, just like his old dad.

He grew to not quite have the same kind heart as his father, despite being almost the exact same as him in every other way. But even as a toddler, his heart had hardened to the world, as he wore a false smile on his face, his green eyes sparkling in the moonlight as he fiddled with a knife, in case his niceness didn't get him hi food. He was a criminal, even at an early age; As he got older he mellowed, but unfortunately, his life didn't. It stayed the same, and eventually, the streets molded Acario as it seemed fit. Whether life is getting brighter or darker for him is still as mystery, though it seems to be taking the 'darker' route, there are some moments of happiness that might make one beg to differ.

C O D E . W O R D wyeshing, baby.
S A M P L E . P O S T
His head shook as he prepared to answer her question; It wasn't a bad question at all, except he thought it starnge that she still even wanted to associate herself with him, much less know more. And curiosity killed the cat, he sung in his head, and he hated when he had those wicked thoughts. They came often and without warning; that natural bloodlust that just made him want to kill everything around him, merely another cruel part of his nature that he knew he would always fear he would spring up around her. That is, if they were to know eachother any further, to not forget this day which was wonderful for him. He hoped the feeling was mutual, and he hoped she wasn't simply staying because she feared him or to be kind.

"No.", he said bluntly, as if he had nothing more to say on the subject. His eyes pointed down away from her, suddenly unable to answer, as if his true name shamed him so bad that the word was unspokable. He wouldn't have felt that way about anyone else in this whole damn world, always proud of it, it was his crown amongst his kingdom of shit. But all the sudden, it didn't feel so worthy, and he didn't feel so proud. Was it just because what he was?, he wondered, and he couldn't help but contemplate why.

Still, even then, he'd stuttered further, spatting out his words. He knew it sounded so bad, but he couldn't leave her there, waiting for him to answer. Hell, he was suprised she'd stayed this long; Don't test faith. Finally, he turned his ehad to her, a small smile on his lip. "My real name, my name in hell, is Mammon.", he finished, as his smile died down to that unsettling frown of daggering teeth that he so desperately wished would just go away. They were there for the same reason he had put the emphasis on hell, because no matter how much he wanted her or even needed her, his body would never accept the fact - His body was built to rip her and living things like her into shreds no bigger than his fingers, as soon as he was spout out of the foul earth, that was always his destination: to spill innocent blood, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy every second of it, as it was in his nature to do so, much like it was in hers to fall into situations like this.

She was in danger, and he knew it was flashing in her eyes like the stars in the sky on a hopeless, dark night. He knew it was apparent to her, how easily he could just take her and kill her, and he very well almost did. He was the car, and she was the deer, deadlocked in his headlights; and no matter how much he stepped on the brakes, trying to slow down, he knew that he'd be the death of them both. But just like that ill-fated vehicle, there was no turning back, and there were no U-Turns. He had pushed them into a dead-end, and even if they come out alive, he knew they weren't going to come out unscathed. But even then, he'd carry her in his arms and nurse her back to health and regret every little pain he'd ever caused her and every pain to come.

She wasn't completly innocent, however, with her hand gripped tightly around his feelings, the only vulnerable part of him, usually hidden from view but now impossible to ignore. She could take him by suprise, and she could just grab his steering wheel and drive him off a cliff and hop out before any harm befell her, and he knew she had that power. He could only hope that she'd never use it, but she was so unpredictable, and it was just another thing that drew him into her like...like a moth to a flame. It was a new word to him a new saying, and he'd never tooken much interest into the art of language, merely using it as he went along his day because it was a necessity. But something about that phrase interested him, and like fate, he read it's meaning: Irresistibly and dangerously attracted to something or someone.

That's what they both were, so head over heels for something that could so easily destroy them and send them careeining over the edge. They enjoyed danger and they enjoyed adrenaline, just the thrill of cheating death once again, and yet not really caring if it did come upon them. He could only speak for himself, now, but he guessed at the reasons they were so hazardly attracted to one eachother: They were both broken, shattered by this world of sex and lies, and they were the only ones who could piece the fragments back into place, even if their hands were cut and bleeding by the end of it; Things had to be sacrificed to make something new. They were dying puzzlers, and love was the last problem in their way.

So, he felt at ease as she went on, having to explain why she had any interest in him whatsoever. Why?, he spoke in silence, his face saying it for him. He din't interrupt; however, as of now, he wasn't going to say words unless they were needed, and any further talking would just spew out stupid, lovestruck nonsense. He sighed, realizing such was the consequence of romance. He watched her lips move, but even with her pretty face and words, she had said it the said it the best and the closest anyone had every gotten to explain the feeling. That's when he decided to just stop trying to do so. The laguage of love was the language of nosense, and trying to figure it out will only deprive you of it, and before you know it there's a lifetime worth of memories wasted on one simple thought.

The smile faded away, dying. He was never one to like to be complimented. Well, actually, he wasn't sure if that was true. He just didn't know how to. He'd neither heard them or given them, mainly his own fault. But real. He'd lied, he'd killed, he'd hurt all in the name of the Greed, men and women and children alike. He was only as real as his desires allowed him to be, and deception and trickery seemed to be so close to him it was a wonder they didn't share his hollow soul. As soon as he hit that beach, he'd said the words that would close his fate and bring his feeling out into the opening like he'd never do with anyoen else, and even if he'd come to regret it, it had felt so good to to have gotten it off his mind. He hoped he didn't regret it, he really did; As the words floated about the island air to her pointed ears, he could only say goodbye knowing that they would never return.

He sat there for a minute, face and mind devoid of emotion as he studied the expression on her face. He was trying to give her a chance to take it all in, his ivory orbs just looking over her, hoping that they could be be that human hue that he knew would be some much more coforting, as if it would help him and her through his akward words any better. Oh fuck, look Shane, you've gone and done it: The one person who even kindof likes you and you've gone and messed it up. Stupidity is your true sin., he thought to himself, and he feared it to be true, for her to walk away from him and never looked back. Just as he waited in anticipation for the answer, he could feel the anticipation and anxiety nibbling away at his insides, reducing him into a mere shell of a man, and he'd be dead if the answer didn't come.

...and the words never came, but that was just as well. A deep, pale vermillion blush made it's warm way through his cheeks as his lips upturned into a smile. He felt like flying, flying high up above with her away from this place, just so they didn't have to deal with the troubles of this place. He had felt all this from such a small gesture, as it would seem to anyone else, but it was more than just a kiss on the cheek; It was a promise that something more than just friendship would blossom between the two, just a teaser, really, but the assurance was good enough. For once, it felt nice to be alive.

He fell to the ground, being the slave to his desires as he was, gesturing for her to do the same; while he wouldn't be suprised if she didn't. A smile crossed his face as he gazed at the sky, painted in pinks by the setting sun, the day leaving them as birds dotted the sky. He squinted at them, remembering when he used to feel such animosity towards them, being that they could fly through the sky so freely. He wanted to be one, to be able to glide through the air and make wishes on the stars above, closer than anyone else could ever be. But instead he had to make do with the airplanes and wish on them, only hoping for a dream to come true; but as he had learned on the perfect day, feeling the ghost of where Pixie's lips had touched, that perhaps that it wasn't in vain as he'd thought. Looking at Pixie, he could only think that all his wishes had come true, and whatever God above was looking out for him.

[FLYFLY]