Monday, September 17, 2012

Character Profile: Duncan Benandanti

Duncan Benandanti



1. Name: Duncan Benandanti
2. Age: 27
3. Hair: Brown
4. Eyes: Pale ass blue/silver
5. Build: Athletic/fit
6. Height: 6'3'
7. Personality: Dry humor, serious, cautious
8. Likes: Mouthy blonds, arguing, motorcycles, running, honesty.
9. Dislikes: Mouthy blonds, being wrong, liars, fighting.
10. Music: NIN, Tool, AC/DC, Motley Crue, rock.
11. Movies: Fight Club, Memento, The Signal, The Hills have Eyes.
12. Actor whom my character resembles: Brant Daugherty
13. Clothes: Jeans, shirts optional.
14. Job: Mechanic/part-owner at Custom E Bikes.
15. Song: "The Hollow" A Perfect Circle



 
 
 
 
Duncan's Song "The Hollow" A Perfect Circle
 
 
 
 
 
 
Duncan's Words
 
 
 
 
“I was just making an observation. You know if you muzzled your mouth you’d be more attractive.”
 
 
“What do you want from me Duncan?” My breath caught in my throat when he licked his lips and swallowed hard. 
“I don’t know everything and nothing. I feel like you’re this giant flame that I can’t get away from. I fight the pull; I try as hard as I can to move in the other direction but something keeps bringing me back. I left town hoping I’d never come back here, but here I am. I guess I’m sick of fighting it. I’m willing to take the chance of burning up the question is, are you?”


 
 “Look, Lo, we live in different worlds, mine has rules you’ll never understand, Brody crossed a line. I had to punish him, the things he’s capable of, you wouldn’t believe. Just know that despite the violence of my world, it is for a reason. I’m not a monster. I’m not even a bad man, I’m just doing the best I can for my kinsmen.”
 

 
“Why are we at your house?” Duncan’s voice was gruff but he didn’t slur.
“You’re drunk, and I guess I’m rescuing you.”
“I don’t need rescuing.” He said.
“Right, I guess I should just drop you and let you sleep on my front step.” I mocked him.
Duncan grunted and I opened the door and led him to the couch.
“What I’m not good enough for the bed?”
I muttered but didn’t respond.
“I get it. I’m not hot enough for you.” He smiled crookedly and I had to fight back a laugh.
At the moment, he was about as hot as a drunk who smelled like vomit could be.
“You want the truth?”
Duncan laid back and put his feet on the arm of the couch.
“Yes, no, I don’t know.” He said.
“I think you’re the hottest guy I’ve ever met, but I’ve seen you throw up, you smell, and you’re drunk.” I said.
He reached out a hand and brushed my face.
“You’re beautiful. I hate you a little right now.”

 
 
 
 




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