donovan FAUST

[DONOVAN FAUST]

donovan FAUST

hollywood god*

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»the basics

NAME:

Donovan Grimsley Faust

NICK NAMES:

He hates nicknames and will automatically hate you if you make one up. Therefore, “Don,” “Donny,” or anything short of “Donovan” or “Mr. Faust” will put you on Donovan’s hit list.

CLASS:

primordial deity

REINCARNATE:

Tartarus ;; god of deep underworld and punisher of the damned

AGE:

Twenty-seven

JOB:

Criminal prosecutor

ORIENTATION:

pansexual (closeted; generally denies attraction towards anyone)

FACE CLAIM:

Adrien Brody

»the image

EYE COLOR:

Brown. They are fairly expressive, but he’s learned over the years to keep them carefully flat so as not to show any weakness.

HAIR:

Very dark brown (black, in the right light). It occasionally gets kind of stringy when Donovan forgets to wash it. He keeps it fairly short, and it tends to look unkempt.

HEIGHT:

6’2”

WEIGHT:

172 pounds

CLOTHING STYLE:

It varies. When no-one’s around and he has no reason to look professional, you can find him in simple jeans and a t-shirt. However, if he’s going out somewhere, he will probably dress more formally; he wears a lot of blazers, button-down shirts, and ties. He never wears bright colors and always sticks to monotone or muted, earthy tones.

»the story

FAMILY:

Father: Friedrich Faust (A stern, severe man. The son of German immigrants, Friedrich was a lawyer who told his son what it took to be in the law career. He also told him horror stories about how disgusting humanity could be – the cases he saw every day. He was a condescending man who always expected more from his son. He is currently alive, and is 58 years old.)

Mother: Angela Faust (A plump, rosy-cheeked woman of Irish descent. Donovan doesn’t remember his mother being very involved in his life, but he does remember that she was a fantastic cook. She didn’t really talk to him very much and was more concerned with his sisters, and sometimes he wonders how much attention she actually gave him. She is also alive, and is 56 years old.)

Sisters: Alexandra and Carissa Faust (Twins, both of them four years younger than him. Alexandra is the elder twin. They both have their mother’s more rounded and pleasant features than their father’s severe ones, which Donovan seemed to inherit. They have tried, over time, to get closer to him, but he doesn’t want to associate with them, and they’ve stopped trying. They are both 23 years old.)

HOMETOWN:

Boston, Massachusetts

PERSONALITY:

Donovan inherited a lot more from his father than he did his mother, and that includes Friedrich’s strict severity. Donovan is known as a somewhat cold and distant man, and though he is not haughty or arrogant, he is known to be quite aloof and somewhat unsociable. His aura is frigid and uncompromising, and he is a known perfectionist, with himself and with others. He is highly judgmental and critical of others’ actions, and he may or may not voice his critiques, depending on his mood and how much he values the other person.

With an extremely powerful sense of right and wrong, Donovan has somewhat of a justice complex. He feels it is his exclusive responsibility to punish those who have done wrong and keep society functioning properly. As he does not believe in God, he does not leave divine judgment up to any higher power and feels that only human beings can right the wrongs of the world. He is condemnatory towards those who would break the law, but at the same time believes that sometimes, the righteous may surpass laws in order to condemn those who defy justice, making him somewhat of a hypocrite. In all honesty, for all his maturity, he is mentally unstable to some extent.

Donovan is a fairly gloomy individual. He is never really satisfied with himself and is truly an unhappy man; he often feels empty and forgotten, as if something is missing from his life. It could, perhaps, be that he has virtually no contact with the outside world; he has no friends, he is somewhat estranged from his family, and he has never been in a lasting romantic relationship in his life. Everything has been about his academics and his job – Donovan has always been the icy and unfeeling intellectual, who is too engaged in his work to care about anything or anyone else. He is known to be grim, and unsympathetic towards other living things. It is difficult for him to make friends, as he is so critical of others and himself that it is hard to look past someone's shortcomings in order to befriend them. And truly, between his hypercritical behavior and the air of doom and gloom that follows him everywhere, few are keen on making nice with Donovan.

Complicated and hard to read, it’s a challenge to tell what Donovan’s thinking unless he’s under a lot of stress. When he is feeling strained, it’s much harder for him to keep the expressionless exterior he so often uses, and his eyes, especially, become an open book. This easy-to-read quality has been something he’s been trying to expel for years, as he thinks it is a weakness, and outside of stressful situations, he conceals it very well. He has always been frightened of being vulnerable and is terrified at the idea that he might be weak, so he constantly feels the need to keep up that even, calm outer shell. Donovan is complex, and he doesn’t quite think like everyone else.

For some reason, Donovan has been morbidly fascinated with death and theories on the underworld since he was a child. He reads a lot of horror novels and is enchanted by the macabre and the dismal. With somewhat of a Schadenfreude for human suffering, Donovan is fascinated by the intricacies of fear, though he has never applied what he’s learned – perhaps he’s never thought to. Still, he believes in the capital punishment, and that all sinners should pay for what they have done. Donovan considers himself to be a righteous defender of justice, and yet does not feel that it is his place to walk among others in the outside world. His home, he feels, is somewhere…darker.

PAST:

Donovan was born in the cold month of December, on the 21st day of the month, into an upper middle class family. His birth was an extremely physically painful one for Angela, and weeks after his birth, she was engulfed by a mysterious post-partum depression. Donovan was an eerily quiet child; though he did not cry often, he also hardly ever laughed, instead observing everything in silence with his wide, intelligent brown eyes. His parents were concerned for his welfare from day one, but doctor after doctor told the nervous first-time parents that there was nothing they could do to change their son’s oddly calm behavior. They stated it was probably a phase, and that he would open up eventually.

He never did.

Young Donovan Faust grew up under the oppressive thumb of his father, a successful lawyer who wished to sculpt his son into his image, as some parents wish to do. Friedrich Faust was an unforgiving mentor; mistakes were not tolerated, and shortcomings were to be made up for. Donovan soon acquired this need for precision and became an extreme perfectionist, becoming highly self-critical and also very critical of others. He was never a social child, as, by the age of ten, he could see only weakness and flaws in his peers – only the bad, and never the good. He was quick to correct others, and this irritated them, driving them away from the dismal young man. Still, Donovan took this as a positive, as it gave him fewer distractions and allowed him to work more efficiently.

When Donovan was four years old, his younger siblings were born, twin sisters named Carissa and Alexandra. Though his parents encouraged him to associate with his little sisters as they grew, Donovan never felt any sort of brotherly affection towards them and refused to grow close to them. They developed into normal, pretty little girls while Donovan remained something of a family outcast.

Around the time he was entering middle school, Donovan acquired a fascination with the macabre. The idea of death was intriguing to him, though he could never put his finger on why. Throughout his middle and high school years, he researched various theories about death and the afterlife, though he kept it somewhat a secret from his peers and parents. This was also around the time he acquired his strong sense of justice and became set in his path to become a lawyer, like his father; in fact, he was determined to become an even better lawyer, though he did not share that part of his dream with his father. Friedrich was elated that Donovan wished to follow in his footsteps and gave his son all the help he needed to succeed. Donovan wished to be the one to punish and condemn those who had done wrong and make society pristine, though he simultaneously did not feel like he would be a part of this utopia. He always felt like his place in the world was a darker, deeper place, like he did not belong in the light, and this only fed his depressing, sour aura.

After high school, Donovan was accepted to a very high-profile university, and graduated one year early, at age twenty, with honors. His role in college life was limited, and he spent most of his time studying, either in the library or in his dorm. He made himself scarce when it came to social situations, and only attended such scenarios if they were connected to the world of academia in order to keep up appearances. After college, he went straight into law school and graduated (once again with honors) at the age of twenty-four. He searched for work as a lawyer all over the country, volunteering as a clerk for some time before he at last found a job near Hollywood, California. Though he was not initially a criminal attorney, he worked his way up in the ranks until he became the prodigious California prosecutor he is today.

PRESENT:

Currently, Donovan makes a good living as a prosecutor in criminal court. He lives in a nice apartment in an upper middle class community, where he continues to look into his more macabre fascinations on a regular basis. With a distinct air of maturity and a usually cold expression, Donovan is both respected and feared by the community, for everyone knows that he is absolutely ruthless in court. He views every criminal as guilty until proven innocent, and will work tirelessly to see them all behind bars.

Donovan still feels out of place in the realm of daylight and has become something of a night owl, staying up well into the night and thus getting very little sleep. Though this has not affected his work (he would not allow such a thing), he does look distinctively pale, with dark circles under his eyes most of the time. This slightly cadaverous look worries his coworkers, but adds to the condescending “dark lord of judgment” persona that he has acquired over time. He still has very few social contacts outside of work, but doesn’t seem to mind. His personal life and physical needs always come second to his dark purpose.

»the extra

LIKES:

Justice
The macabre
Interesting horror novels and movies
His job
The dark
Winter
Learning new things
Being useful
Things with meaning
Classical art, literature, and music
Books
Current events
Black coffee and vodka (sometimes both at once)

DISLIKES:

Sappy, romantic, or cuddly things
Weakness
Criminals
Evil
Ignorance
Spring and summer
Politics
Meaningless things
Beer
Milk
Very bright places
Social situations
Feeling useless

OTHER INFO:

Donovan almost always feels cold, even if it is very hot outside, and for that reason is usually wearing a jacket.

»the writer

NAME:

Zelda

AGE:

Undisclosed.

GENDER:

Female

RP EXPERIENCE:

Five years or more

HOW YOU FOUND STS:

I was curious, so Becket directed me here.

RP SAMPLE:

(This is from a Hogwarts role play. It’s new-ish and fairly decent, so please excuse my nerdiness and the fact that it’s out of context.)

It wasn’t that Cetus de Blayne hated everyone. In fact, there were some individuals that he greatly admired; given, all of these individuals were historical figures, but that was beside the point. He did not hate everyone – that was a gross overgeneralization.

However, it was appropriate to say he felt (at least) disdain towards 98% of the human population currently alive upon this Earth, and he was not at all timid about admitting to it. It was hardly something the 6th year Slytherin boy felt bad about – after all, it was not his fault if his “peers” (he shivered at the use of the word) were too infantile to take a little heat. This was not his problem. He was not programmed to feel pity.

If Hogwarts had a yearbook, and in turn the class superlatives that are often included in a yearbook, Cetus de Blayne would be unanimously voted “#1 Cruelest Character.”

It was a rather average day for him, he felt, as he left the Slytherin dormitory, crassly shoving some first years out of his way as he sauntered down the hall. A Potions textbook lay open in his arms, his Slytherin robes swishing around his ankles as he walked. He took long strides, a certain confidence in his step that could not be bought – only born, and molded into arrogance by years of spoiling by rich pureblood parents. He was haughty, he was conceited, and he was rude, the epitome of everything Slytherin students were considered and expected to be.

His light brown hair was neatly brushed, but it had long grown out of any distinct hairstyle and flared out slightly to the side, despite all attempts to keep it down. The pale glow to his skin seemed to hint at his reclusive qualities, those habits of staying inside curled up somewhere dark with a book on black magic he had probably illegally procured (Cetus was rarely troubled by the law). His clever blue-green eyes seemed to shine with the air of malice he practically exuded like perfume. He was fairly lean, nearly catlike, with angular features that almost seemed severe, but were not visually displeasing, per se. He would have been a more handsome boy if he didn’t look so smug all the time.

Cetus didn’t think he needed any special qualities or powers in order to be incredible. He was rich, his family was powerful, he was pureblooded and smart and had excellent grades (though few of his professors were fond of him, due to his behavior). In his opinion, he didn’t need to change his appearance or turn into an animal or anything of that nature. Everyone would be working for him one day, anyway.

But those ignorant imbeciles needed to stop calling him short. Five foot seven was a perfectly respectable height.

Stepping into the Great Hall, he glanced around boredly for a moment, but, seeing no-one particularly interesting to annoy, he clambered atop the Slytherin house table and stretched out between a pair of chattering third years, who took one glance at the elder student and quickly shifted their seats to several yards down the table. Cetus just smirked and kept reading.

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