Application: Vanyel Ashkevron

[vanyel_peacock]

Character: Vanyel Ashkevron from Mercedes Lackey's Valdemar books. The character is being apped immediately after attempting suicide following the suicide of his lover, Tylendel. Rather than being Chosen, as he was in the books, he insetad woke from his suicide attempt to find himself here

Comments

Vote: Squib

[waste_lock]

"Wretched and meaningless. That's certainly true, but your whining doesn't improve it."

Re: Vote: Squib

[vanyel_peacock]

He sniffed artuflly, and looked over with a raised eyebrow to the speaker. "And what would you know about it?" he asked.

Re: Vote: Squib

[waste_lock]

"By all means whine some more!! It's never enough, is it?" Nny was shouting, face twisted into a snarl. "You moan about how SPECIAL and UNIQUE your pain is, how your fucking despair is darker than anyone else's and no one can ever UNDERSTAND the depths of your perfect individual pain!!!"

He glared. "And since you're here, I can't kill you."

Re: Vote: Squib

[vanyel_peacock]

"Oh, do go away. If you don't want to hear anything, then the answer is simple. Don't talk to me. And I don't see why you couldn't kill me. Although, the way my luck is, I'd survive. Again."

He rolled his eyes. Obviously another petty tormentor. Well, it was unlikely to work, because whatever this man had said, his pain was different. It wasn't like he expected understanding.

[we_shall_see]

"Midnight? Tell me, was it also a dark and stormy night? I'd forgotten how dramatic kids these days were."

Gust sets his hands on his hips.

[vanyel_peacock]

He looked over at the other man cooly. "It was, in fact. Sovvan night, actually. And if you consider a blood feud dramatic, I think that's rather your problem, not mine," he said, his voice sharp.

[we_shall_see]

"I have no idea what a Sovvan is."

So they have this established.

[vanyel_peacock]

"Harvest festival," he said flatly.

[bone_not_rock]

Cuts like that only meant one thing, but if this guy was here, suicide clearly wasn't going to work out for him. Of all the sortings to pop into, this one was going to suck.

"You're going to need something for your arms," Billy told him. "Antiseptic and bandages at the least, because I imagine an infection would be a bitch."

[vanyel_peacock]

He laughed bitterly. "Life's a bitch. And then I didn't even manage to die. I suppose I might as well. After all, I wouldn't want to make a mess," he said, slightly less cold in tone than he had been to the others.

[bone_not_rock]

"The dying thing gets a whole lot harder once you get here," he muttered, "and blood on the floor just makes it worse."

Billy called for a friend's house elf, the only one he knew by name. With a crack! it appeared in the sorting room. He gave it instructions, and then it was gone. A few moments later it returned in the same way, carrying a cream and bandages.

"This stuff's great," Billy said as the house elf gave it to Vanyel. "It doesn't sting." He was acting like it was just a minor cut. Life was a bitch, and he could wait to hear why until after the basics had been taken care of.

[vanyel_peacock]

He nodded, and took the jar, struggling to get it open before slathering it on his arms, getting some on what remained of his sleeves in the process.

He looked up at Billy. "I.. I'm afraid i can't cut the sleeves off. The knife didn't come with me," he said.

[charlesofdensen]

"Unless you've marketed your ability to play music, and play it well, I presume, I don't give a damn."

[vanyel_peacock]

"If by marketed, you mean profited from it, then yes. I've found it serves me well. Of course, I doubt anyone here has heard me play," he said aristocratically.

[charlesofdensen]

"Perhaps, but most of what I listen to nowadays is metal. Though they did a collaboration with the London Philharmonic. I manage a metal band, Dethklok. I could propose that you do a collaboration with them."

[vanyel_peacock]

"I have no idea what sort of music you mean, by the term metal," he said. "I play the lute, however."

[i_am_an_hero]

The blood makes A shiver, and the sight of the cuts on Vanyel's arms makes him moan softly. He rubs his neck unconsciously, trying to get himself under control.

"We... we, we..." he stammered. "We had a party. Not, not really dinner. M-maybe a lunch party. But the music was from a record player."

[vanyel_peacock]

"Record player?" he asked softly. "What's that?"

[i_am_an_hero]

"It's a little obsolete... but it plays music. Records... vinyl. A little like CDs, but bigger and easier to damage."

[vanyel_peacock]

"It?" he asked. "A new musical instrument?" he said, a puzzled look on his face.