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Created on 2006-11-20 01:44:52 (#11647801), last updated 2007-05-19

2 comments received, 117 comments posted

Basic Info
Name:颯~そう~ Sou
Birthdate:03-25
Bio
[ID# 1202118]

[Doctor Kyo / [info]divine_vilex]

[Room# 035]


Personality and Physical description

With bleach blonde hair at the age of 12, Sou set out to gain the attention of everyone around him. And those that didn’t fawn him for looks soon resented him for his openly provocative nature.

“Sou, don’t touch me!”

“But you feel so good.”


When Sou was 14, he was visited by a doctor. And everything that doctor said, Sou agreed with, even when it was a contradiction of something said two seconds before.


“The grass is a weed.”

“I know it is.”

“But you said it was a plant.”

“Because it is.”


With no ideals in hand, at the age of 15, Sou set out to learn everyone’s opinions.


“I think war is wrong.”

“It’s pointless.”


With ideals firmly rooted, at the age of 16, Sou set out to refute others.


“We need war to gain peace.”

“It’s the only way to do anything.”


Abandoned at the 304 Asylum, at the age of 17, Sou set out to become the favorite person in the entire building.


“Welcome to the asylum, I hope you will find friends here.”

“I already have.”




History

The bleach couldn’t be taken back. “What have you done?!” Sou’s mother screamed, staring at her son’s thoroughly small blonde head.

“Oh, you noticed?” Sou didn’t try to hide the fast that he was pleased at the attention.

“You look like a gaijin!” The mother screeched.

“I know.”

“I think it looks cool.” His friend said.

“I know.”


The boys milled around the tree, talking admittedly about random things, the weather, girls, Sou’s new hair.

“You’re hair looks stupid, Sou.” One of them said.

“I know it does.”


At the age of 16, Sou was forcedly admitted to an all boys’ boarding school. He was promptly kicked out.

“Stop it Sou!” A young boy screeched, shoving the blonde off him. The blonde returned, attaching his arms back to the other’s body, lower half immediately taking up the task it had been interrupted in, rubbing provocatively against the boy’s leg.

“Sou!” A teacher screeched. “This is the last straw! This is the hundredth time we’ve told you to stop! Go pack!”

Sou left, but not before running his hand across the other boys chest with a small wink.


Just days before Sou’s seventeenth birthday, Sou was admitted to the 304 asylum after many failed attempts at reform school, boarding school, and other hospitals.

His parents have not once visited him, or called him, and Sou has all but forgotten them.
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