Reece Samuel Fallow'If you could hear my thoughts you'd hear this'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2iijmj5nB6IFCPREMIX - The Fall of Troy
'My head sweats.'
-I-Born in Irchester, England, his Mother dying before he would even know her and an absent Father, whose selfish neglect led to his alleged suicide. Reece was promptly removed from his family home, ignorant to the Wizardy World and was relocated into an orphanage at the age of four. There, he spent a great deal of his youth, befriending more girls than boys in the hope of finding his Mothers' eyes amongst them; the dillusion of a broken child.
-II-Years had passed for the withdrawn and lonely Fallow, his fifth year amongst 'friends'. Now nine, Reece had never felt more isolated. He was noticing things about the world that he simply thought others couldn't. The other children chant his imperfections, the onslaught of wicked brutality only a nieve child could morally distribute. His height and his words were seemingly against him. There is little hope.
-III-Eleven. The roaring machinary that powers the Hogwarts Express surges beneath his feet for the first time and the Fallow feels at peace. A small leatherbound journal to keep his thoughts, to note everything he could ever imagine. People, places, faces and dinosaurs driving police cars. A world of oppurtunity presents him with hope and confidence for the road ahead. He knew he was special.
-IV-The creeping touch of madness finally catches up with Reece, fifteen and attacking his friends, claiming to be a werewolf, claiming to have seen a door, claiming to be special! Mere ramblings that only got him a bed within the confines of St. Mungo's. For one long year he was held, being cared for and healed. His mind in desperate need of love and attention. His journal now more important than ever, a conduit of creation in his eyes, memoirs of his theories. Friends he made in madness have structured his mind in sanity, a way of seeing life he never thought visible.
-V-The here and now, sixteen pushing seventeen and back at Hogwarts, a redeemed young man. His strange enthusiasm for the world around him, his fearless and child like attitude to the horrible things in life and a longing for constant companionship. Friends are his life now and with a fresh page in his journal, another chapter at Hogwarts begins...
House:
Ravenclaw'I'm Reece! Would you like to hear my theory on doors?'
AppearanceA charming smile greets you warmly, taken back by bright blue eyes that peer into your very soul... Or eyes... His shoulder length chestnut brown hair is well kept, distinctly shining despite layers of free hand mess. If not in Ravenclaw Robes, he usually sports a soft brown cardigan, tightly hugging his slender frame, stretching slightly to match his height, six foot five inches and still growing. A dark blue shirt spills into view at the neck of his cardigan, cutting off at a bronze belt buckle depicting a tree at the helm of a dark leather belt. His jeans are slim fit and dark grey, tightly hugging his long toned legs. He wears several charms and bracelets around both wrists, making it hard to detect the tattoo's on each.
Tattoo DesignsLeft Arm: A flamed eclipse conceals his shoulder completely with the fire protuding from the blackened sun and reaching down either side of a completely waxen lady whose beauty overshadows the hooded man clad in black beside her, a small whispy goatie hanging from his chin. A golden insigina glows between them with a starry night beneath, finishing above his elbow. The night itself is illuminated with several purple and yellow glows amongst the white of the stars. The black itself seems to almost seep in the flames from around the two figures. Around the top of his forearm is writing that circles around his elbow and back. 'I was here in the beginning and ill be here in the end.' The writing that's inked beneath it reads. 'Via Domus' A small line of penciled sunsets at three different stages circle beneath that. The bulk of his forearm is a skinny and twisted tree, dying with a pair of glowing eyes. The tree itself only takes the centre of his forearm with a destroyed city standing out behind it, wrapping around his arm completely. The citie on closer inspection is strangely a mix of several different architectures, ranging from Eastern European to Gothic and Middle Eastern as well as British. The city in ruins, smudged oragnes and yellows caught beneath the dank blacks and greys of the backdrop. The tree's roots themselves extend down to his wrist, arching around the mysterious door of light.
Left Wrist: An open door frame of light with an enigmatic insignia seemingly rising from it. Birds are inked flying from the base of the door and up past the distant horizon of the backround. A colourful tattoo with significant meaning to Reece. Ask him.
Right Wrist: Often mistaken as the Illuminati All Seeing eye, the tattoo is obviously not with closer inspection. The eye has a golden upside down triangle outline that protrudes through a colourful flower patch, beautifully designed on his skin. A meaning is hidden within the strange symbols that surround the tattoo's perimeter, suggesting maybe a code or a phrase.
Neck A lush and colourful blue ocean swallows a small purple planet, half exposed amongst the waves. A small but detailed purple and gold mermaid is swimming with the waves and a black and red flock of birds consumes the sky. The design is expertly blended, the colours vibrant and solid.
Tid
Around his neck always is a tied leather necklace with eleven rings sown through it. Each one holding sentimental value. His brown leather boots are hand decorated with curious engravings, depicting a map on one and several small solar systems covering the other.
His manner his polite unless provoked and even then, his aim is not to physically harm but generall outwit or even irritate others in defence, finding his sociopathic undertone rearing its ugly head. This is rare, In general his only aim is to simply please other people, somewhat taking it upon himself to ensure the happiness of those around him. His slightly feminine attitude to shopping and beauty care on top of cobalt blue nail varnish fading on the little finger of his left hand has perpetuated certain rumours that he won't even dignify with denial. Often fanning the accusations for his own personal pleasure.
Reece is currently writing a story that plagues his mind and is making several entries regarding his theory with hopes of publishing it in the Wizarding World.
His accent has an East Anglian tone of prolonged syllables and slang. Something he uses to mask the posh English notes of his voice.
Cut my heart in a half and discard the evidence, well, it's yours to send meReece's opinion on love is a distorted one, tainted by those around him with their sickening affections and blind dedication to others. In his eyes, it's easier to remain oblivious to another’s advances, if not to savour the genuine feelings another may express. He has learned, no one is more vulnerable than when they are in love. Not to suggest he is loved. Reece will openly be affectionate towards another but only through honesty, not through personal gain.
It seems time was given but your use of it was an insultAn extract from his personal journal -
'Everywhere. I can't turn my head without meeting an expressionless hooded figure lurking beside me, spitting venom at children in the halls. It sickens me. Bullies and goons alike, side by side, butchering feelings with mere words. The attention seekers have also not gone unnoticed but i imagine that is the idea. The arrogance of both male and female cliques alone could fill every secret room in Hogwarts but should i judge so harshly? I refuse to. I'm not like them. I'll continue to state the facts as i see fit. Also... Lisa's Birthday soon! Should probably make a card.'
Magical Door Theory: A Brief Outline'The Universe is an amazing place. For every action is a reaction and Magical Door Theory focuses on the Universe's in which these variables occur. For every possibility in this Universe there is an outcome occurring in another, running parallel with our own, much like the strings laid out on a guitar. Instead of six strings however, it supports an unlimited number which the human mind could never comprehend. There -are- in fact doors or gateways that would seamlessly draw you through a transition to one of these other Universe's and adjusting your mind accordingly to compensate. For example, if today we know that water is a liquid, tomorrow water could be sand and you'd never know anything different. Hm, a bad example. Okay, if you are sitting on the front of your broom, technically you’re sitting in the middle and on the end all at the same time. You don’t know this because it is a variable playing out elsewhere. If for instance, people rode brooms upside down all of a sudden, you would have passed through a door but to you that would have been normality. Your brain would install the memories and understanding associated with a different Universe and therefore making it impossible to ever really detect change. To be aware of passing through said doors would more than likely incapacitate you permanently, overloading your brain with incomprehendable thought thus leading to haemorrhaging and eventually death. Doors cannot be seen with the naked eye but the imprint of any can be seen through a photographic picture or even video. The idea being that the world is very much like a Muggle's computer where as you can delete items ie, take a life and yes, that person would die. However the world has everything and everyone backed up in its memory, imprints left by Human electrons and the very electrons erratically forming these doors. These 'ghosts' for the more appropriate term linger where a door may have once been and since doors are constantly moving through time and space, this can make finding them extremely difficult. The sheer number of dimensions in which a door could travel to and from is astounding, reaching as far as one mans' personal hell or another mans' nightmares.' ..... 'Go to bed Reece.'
An onslaught of crooked words and screamed mercy that would explode with a mushroom of beauty. It's only when you reach the end that you realise some things are worth waiting for.
http://www.last.fm/music/Gutworm/_/Obscure+DevotionI like music, writing, thinking, running, laughing, clothes and my hair. Don't look at me like i'm gay! I'm like so totally not. Tiddly fiddly bitties -
I Reece has a small silver pocket watch with a decorative 'F' inscribed on the front.
II Reece smokes hand rolled cigarettes outside of school if not sneaking one in the gorge.
III As much as Reece despises love, he loves his friends.
IV Reece likes to avoid big events.
V Reece is an excellent artist, sketching various pictures to a very good quality.
VI Reece keeps a profile of everyone he meets, whether they like it or not. They come with sketched pictures and various names he has made for them as well as their personality traits and habits. He also structures tree branches around their heads as if trying to work out their thoughts and motivations.
Reece has a tan for winter. What better way to stay warm! ..wait
So now you know that i'm, just, a travelling light on your torch.Reece has been remarkably more absent than usual, his eyes taking fleeting glimpses of the world around him as he travels the length of France. Having remained in Paris pursuing his artistic pleasures for the last Month or so, his mind has been consumed with self indulgence. His disregard for the world around has become more evident upon his return but friendly faces gently remind him of his distant humanity. Life is changing as we speak for young Fallow but who really cares?
Joy.Discovery.Invention
For those awareReece talks about music that accompanys his conceptual art. That music was composed by him and recorded by me. Like totally breaking the fourth wall, amiriiiight?
http://www.purevolume.com/TheGaeiaInitiativeThe hand that crawls across this face is the last thing you'll ever see boy.Reece's final encounter with his past resulted in his toughest lesson yet. Subjected to torture that without his intervention, would have resulted in death. The blade that carved his scars is nestled secretly within his left boot, a reminder of a decision he made to right the wrongs, albeit someone else's wrongs. A crooked scar runs the length of his throat as well as two smaller ones at the corner of each eye. The bright blue of his peepers is dull, almost lifeless but he refuse to let go, to show his true face. It's surprising how easily a smile can convince others of ones sanity and well being. The cracks are there but there's no one to notice. The vibrant and colourful tattoo's that cover his chest are obscured with cuts and bruises. The backs of his hands are now usually gloved to hide the cuts and circular scars that have been precisely carved into the centre of them both. His finger tips are still plastered, stained with droplets of dried blood. All is not lost however, since in having felt like he has lost a friend, he has just as easily gained another, one he can talk openly too. For this he is thankful. Regardless of what has happened and what is to come, Reece is still determined to find his magical doors and up sticks for the stars. The world he paints in his pictures, the people, the trees, the three moons and the Golden Halls. All of these things he still seeks and given enough time, he's convinced he will succeed. Everything else is secondary to him. A fools hope but it's hope none the less. It's hard to know Reece when he often looses track of when he's lying and when he's openly spilling his mechanical thoughts. Life is confusing for the Fallow but his goal remains the same.
Leave. This. World. 'I am the Summer Child'
If you were to notice on Reece's wrist, you would see what looks like leaves embedded within his skin. He sought purpose and he got just that. Bound to an enigmatic evil, he knows this is only the beginning.
I shall be releasedReece has found himself lost in his paintings more than ever and finally it has taken its toll. Essentially replaced, his enitre persona now seems meaningless, his history and development just a blip on the radar of others. This would normally be another step into the dark void of reclusion but not this time. Reece's painting keeps him balanced, his emotions and dislikes merely fuelling his artistic imagary. As he has grown up, away from the petit squabbles of the School yard, he has learned his place in this world can only be forged by his own hands but it does not mean the influences of others should be forgotten. With a rare urge to reconnect with what are essentially his loved ones, his priorities have shifted. While still you may find the young Fallow locked within the art room, chairs stacked against doors while he works, you will now find him conversing freely and engaging people he would otherwise ignored. For the first time, release has taken a back seat. A broader smile is seen on his face, a brighter complexion. His eyes shine their sky blue once more. He is healing.
