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CASE FILE: Cretan Militant
The rain cries for me.
CASE FILE: Cretan Militant
The rain cries for me.
→ Elastor Ito
→ Las Vegas, Creta
→ 3/4 Cretan, 1/4 Aerugese
→ Royal Guard
DATE OF BIRTH:
→ July 4, 1989
→ 166 lbs.
→ He wears a long bronze earring in his left ear. The reason behind this earring is unknown to...everyone besides himself. He took it from the first person he killed who happened to be a business woman with three well-fed kids and an artist for a husband. They were all buried together now, having made one mistake: getting on Dietrich's bad side. Elastor didn't think twice about offing them, until he saw her dead eyes watching him as if he were a monster. He never felt the need to repent for his sins of killing, nor did he ever expect to. But Ela wanted to remember--he wanted to remember that tinge of pain that clenched his heart for a moment when his sword severed sinews of flesh. He watched their house burn down and then pieced through the smoldering ashes to ensure nothing was left. That was when he found the earring, recognizing it at the woman's. The next day, he pierced his ear himself and wore it as a memento.
Elastor's hair is auburn red. Some say it's the color of blood, but in actuality, it's browner. He has shoulder length hair that is usually pulled up in the back while flippy layers escape and long bangs hang over his eyes. His eyes are tinged an icy blue that sometimes shine violet depending on what he is wearing. And usually, Ela wears distasteful clothing, such as turtlenecks. He doesn't really care if people see him without a shirt, but he would rather them not see even his neck if he can help it. He is a conservative person and the turtlenecks not only protect his neck, but also give out the vibe that he doesn't want to be bothered with the normal nonsense of everyday socializing. In the summer though, Ela will wear short sleeved tee-shirts and the like, but he isn't a fan of shorts and would rather sweat to death than wear them. He never wears a bathing suit either because the idea of swimming or going to the beach seems like a waste of time to him. Why purposely force oneself to swim? The act itself takes energy and is considered a form of effort. Elastor has other uses for his energy, which involves ending lives and doing other various missions as a Royal Guard.
He likes long black boots that keep his feet dry regardless of circumstances. He also only wears black (or his favorite orange turtleneck) if he can help it. Although some tasks require him to fit in with his surroundings so he does own stylish clothing for that, but chooses never to wear it unless absolutely necessary. He wears gloves to avoid unnecessary contact and so he doesn't get his hands dirty, but only on missions. He takes his favorite black trench coat (adorned with buckles and badassness) with him everywhere unless it's extremely hot out whereas he settles with a black beater. He doesn't go anywhere without his katana.
When Elastor walks, he does so fluidly and matter-of-factly. The air itself moves out of his way in fear of disturbing him. His voice is usually indifferent, cold, and emotionless, but his anger and annoyance can easily seep into his voice when he wants someone to know it. Normally, he will use his frigid tones to immediately end whatever conversation he is in so that he can go back to actually doing something productive with his life, like...reading a book. He is certainly a hard to approach sort of guy even though he tends to stand out with his spiky red hair and stoic demeanor. He is skinny, but with muscles that don't budge no matter how hard you pry. He isn't tall, he isn't short, but he sure as hell is one to reckon with.
→ Elastor is obsessively private. Meaning, he never shares anything about himself nor cares to. People are just nuisances to him, getting in the way of his constant need to work efficiently. He never stops, never rests, and will avoid talking to someone if at all possible. He hates encountering new people and being probed for information not concerning a mission. However, despite his intense antisocial attitude, Ela actually works well with his fellow Royal Guards. Well, that is once they can look past his bitchy remarks, anal perfectionism, and solitary addiction. Ela's favorite thing is one-word answers or a look that says it all. If he can find a way not to reply, he will. Usually it involves handing them a stack of papers filled with the needed information, a nod, a shake of the head, or motioning towards something and walking away. Sometimes this can irritate a person and evoke a negative reaction, but he doesn't give a shit. They can get all pissy as long as it's not on his time.
He is known for his icy glare of no return. Once said glare is initiated normally all those under it's wrath instantly submit...or run away. This glare usually means that they should shut up and leave him the hell alone or die. On other occasions though, this glare could also simply mean: "die". People have said that he has the eyes of a killer, and Ela doesn't bother hiding it. People fidget, twitch, cower, and piss their pants under his normal gaze so when this specific glare comes out... it's time to act or stop acting for that matter.
Elastor is a perfectionist in definition. His room is so perfectly organized and sparse that one could barely tell that it isn't just a spare room. He likes it that way. So if he died, disappeared, or was captured, he wouldn't leave anything behind for people to find. And because of this, he has no worldly possessions besides his sword and the earring in his left ear. His perfectionism does not make him Obsessive Compulsive in any way, shape, or form; it only makes him extremely anal about certain things. He'll bitch and complain if people don't pick up after themselves or if they do things that compromise a mission or their safety, but he will say nothing if they purposely leave things for him to do. Ela will just take it, do it, and get it over with. And because of this, he can easily work himself into the ground without realizing it. That is why he also needs to be watched out for, evaluated, and forced to take days off.
He is obsessed with money, saving money, and picking pennies up off the sidewalk. The reason for this is deeply ingrained into his psyche due to the fact that he was framed for the death of his entire family who was high in debt. And Elastor must now pay back this debt without even knowing what the money was used for. Rumors float around about his murderous record, but he was accepted into the Cretan Royal Guard regardless of the claims. His record is now flawless and he completes each task given to him without complaining and without a single error. But humanity always has their mistakes...just Ela hasn't encountered one yet.
He denies things that he knows are true. And he does this especially when he is in a bad mood. Elastor is worse than a girl on PMS with his violent mood swings and odd behavior. If someone accuses him of something he doesn't like, he will avidly refuse to acknowledge their existence for a week and deny it ever happening. (He does this if someone pisses him off too, which is relatively easy). If someone provokes him, prods him constantly, or claims something he has chosen to be ignorant of, they are seeking hell. Elastor is good at making people's lives a living hell, but he never does so in a childish manner; he is slick and sneaky with his revenge. So watch out.
→ Being private, Silence, Being ignored, Night, Sleeping, Stories, Reading, Flowers, Cleaning, Justice, Anouk (his sister), Work, Autumn, Children, Cats, Candy, Anything sweet, Tea, Rice, Kitaro, Kenta, Csilla,
→ Rain, Losing, Failing a mission, Being looked down on, Being talked to, Jokes, Being asked too many questions, Being cornered, Takatori, RIOTE, MiW, Drachma, Garlic, Elevators, Smoke, Smokers
→ That his older sister (Anouk) rubs off on him.
→ No one.
→ It was raining that day too...the day when his family was murdered in front of his eyes. The men came in fast, dressed in white and sporting machine guns with crazy smiles. They held the triggers and torn apart his world. Family portraits gouged with holes, the wreath from the door in a puddle of mistletoe. He witnessed it all from the hole in the closet door under the steps. He wasn't hiding...he wasn't. He had been there from the start and has chosen not to turn the nob his white knuckles gripped. His mother's body collapsed onto the kitchen table, unrecognizable as his mother. At first he was in denial that this was happening, felt he couldn't breathe, that maybe he was drowning in a nightmare. But he kept trying to open his eyes and kept finding that they were already open. Briefly, he wondered if his mother's carcass would be raped because that's always what happened in the horror films, but they never even glanced at her--blindly killing, blindly massacring. His father was wailing cries of anguish, calling for him...maybe so he could see his face one last time before the end--maybe he couldn't stand seeing his wife's expression twisted into a scene of death. But Elastor didn't come out; he knew better. Still, the guilt ate him alive. He wanted to ask why--to scream out and charge into his death with the mop he was about to clean the floors with, but he didn't. And never had he thought that his chore of the week would save his life.
The men didn't check for others; they just spilled gallons and gallons of some smelly, flammable liquid on everything that Ela had ever cared about. He couldn't see how his father had died, but he could tell from the fading moans of agony that he would soon be no more. That thought frightened him--it frightened him more than anything. Was he...all alone in the world now? What should he do--what should he do!? That was the first and the last time that Elastor truly had no idea what to do. He panicked, he watched, he witnessed...as flames rose up and began feasting on his home. Nothing would be left. He opened the closet door when he heard the men in white stomp out, leaving red footprints which the fire soon burned away. He walked through the smoke and stared at the lifeless bodies of his parents until they burned into his mind. Flames swirled around him, choking him, making him sick. His calculating mind sputtered, creaking into submission of a logical idea. He couldn't go to his friends--the smiles seemed far off... He had no relatives save for a dear sister that lived all the way in Aerugo... He had no one. Ela was on his own this time.
He ran outside to find a swarm of cops, ambulances, and fire trucks. His clothing was singed and he was covered in a sheen of sweat, near passing out due to the inhalation of too much smoke. A police officer approached him and tried to grab his dazed form around the shoulders, but the instant the man got too close, he lashed out. The officer ended up with a black eye and the next one a broken nose. Ela was restrained and took to court the next morning having received no medical care, no information, and no interrogation. He listened to complicated words and angry accusatory phases that left him miffed into silence. They were trying to accuse him of killing his own parents. No other evidence existed. The men in white were figments of his imagination...and he was called crazy. Word spread of his murderous rage that never existed to begin with and as the investigation continued, he eventually was claimed guilty. With the stamp of approval from the judge, he was to serve two years in Juvenile Prison. Two. Years.
It was hell to say the least. He couldn't wear what he wanted. He couldn't eat what he wanted. He couldn't do what he wanted. He couldn't talk back. He couldn't wash his face without a snide remark from one of the guards. His food tasted like cardboard with soy sauce soaked into it. Ela was just about losing his mind by the time a year passed. He became more than conserved and he stopped speaking altogether, and then he got yelled at for that too. He read, and read, and read so many books that he ran out. Occasionally, he would receive a letter from his sister with pictures of her and her husband at Christmas, at Thanksgiving, and even at Halloween. He always enjoyed reading them, but he never wrote back, not once. She always looked so happy, but despite that, her letters were filled with questions, ponderings, and ill feelings towards what had happened. She also mentioned that their Aunt and Uncle just wanted her to forget about him, but she made it clear that she never would. No matter what. Even that--that small piece of hope was enough to save Ela from ultimate solitude. He went on reading--went on brushing his teeth with a pair of eyes over her shoulder until a fateful day came.
It was an autumn day, though it was hard to tell due to the lack of windows and drone of fluorescents. Some low-IQed kid broke out of his cell somehow in the night. No, he lacked intelligence further: he broke out everyone from their cells. Apparently, he had gained control of one of the main computers through a device he made from his cellphone they had mistakenly not taken from him upon admittance. While everyone raced out in whispers, Ela peered through the bars and nodded to his roommate as he passed. He didn't move from where he was, knowing that it was only a matter of time... Of course, the whisperings grew louder and murderous kids will be murderous kids. A fight broke out. Not a fight, a brawl. Bloodied bodies fell over railings, the alarm sounded, and security guards joined the fray. One of the main players fled from the scene, running into Ela's cell only to see him there crouched, watching intently. Evidently, this pissed off kid criminal number 68 and he lifted Ela up by a balled fist. In his other hand was what looked like a nail file. Shit. Ela frowned and lowered his gaze, but the kid would have none of it, honing in with the jagged, already bloody object. Ela didn't move, preparing himself for a major pain-filled sacrifice. Maybe that would prove his innocence.
Clearly, it wasn't meant to be; he would be guilty until proven otherwise and the proof just didn't want to exist on any plane. A guard eventually found the minute-old path the kid had took and just as he swung open the gate, number 68 threw himself backward, chucking the nail file towards Ela and screaming, "Don't hurt meeeee!!"
Immediately Ela hissed, "What...!?" But it was too late. He was apprehended and cuffed to a door the rest of the night. No, the next two nights. He was given water...three times. And food, none at all. Finally, the judgement was passed on him and a man came to uncuff him and share the news. He was to spend another two years in hell, freedom stripped, and framed YET AGAIN. Beyond pissed, he returned to his cell and to silently rereading the same books until finally being fed.
By the third year, a shipment of newer books was brought to the library, occupying Ela from his intense boredom. There was only so many invisible sword swings one could take before they got completely and utterly bored enough to have their imagination break. With books, the images of life outside was just handed to him. He taught himself Amestrian, Xingese, and Drachman, having only vaguely known a few words here or there in any of them. Many of the newer books were in other languages and by the end, he became wholly inept at reading them. Time passed as slowly as watching a slug cross the sidewalk, and conclusively the day came for him to be released. Nope, it was put off a day, and then another, and then he was released. It was like going through customs at an airport seven times before finally reaching the outside, unshackled. That night, he had nowhere to go and chose to spend the night in the ruins of his home. It was a mess of remains, overgrown from three springs. As he slept in the undergrowth of the caved in roof, a man dressed in all white came to him. The man showed him a picture of his sister and her unborn child and then a letter that stated an amount owed to some secret federation called RIOTE. The man's husky voice said that if he didn't pay a certain sum each month, his sister would be killed and then they would come for him. He had no choice but to comply. He was so lucky.
Elastor moved to London, the capital of his country, using money he stole from the pockets of rich old men who would use it to gamble their lives away anyway. Instead, the money gave rise to new life in the auburn-haired kid. He had a plan because Ela always had a plan. His father had been in the army before he retired and had taught his son various sword styles and techniques he had picked up in the countless battles he survived from. To this day, Ela retained them vividly because the training had been hellish. He had decided to take his skills to the main recruits office in Creta who then tested his skills and was amazed. In no time, he worked his way up the ranks and into adulthood, becoming a Royal Guard. He witnessed the unrest of his country at the death of first a prime minister and then Markus. He was glad when a reliable man then replaced the milestones of death: King Dietrich.
A day came when he was given a mission to kill a fat pig in a pub who had actively performed illegal action against the government. He was supposed to be tried in court, but evidence was nonexistent. Elastor didn't hesitate to shoo off the bartender and run the target through with his sword. But an unexpected problem flew into his plans like a bird into a glass pane. A blond girl who was not factored into the equation showed up when she wasn't supposed to show up. The current time usually resulted in zilch customers save for the fat pig currently bleeding out his soul. Said scared girl was horrified as any would be and she would soon be no more; no one lived to witness his kills. He glared at her and approached, seeing the fear--seeing... He lowered his sword, sheathed it, and then she asked the question he was asking himself. "Why?" Fear laced her words as she stammered out her gratitude for sparing her. Elastor didn't know how to react so he turned away and headed for the door. But it wasn't enough... he felt he had to leave something behind. "I don't know..."
Life went on. The kills and the missions piled on his list until he was able to buy a separate apartment from the barracks with his increased pay. He was then sent to West City to invade Amestris, fighting along side his kin to bring down the rotten magic-wielder tyrants. Many were felled by his blade and more from the iciness of his glare. A ring formed around him of quivering enemies who already knew of their demise. That was until the bombs wrecked everything.
He met her again. It was in a ditch on the battle field as Creta invaded Amestris. They were drawn to a tie, but... he met the girl he didn't kill except...she was on the wrong side. He brought an enemy home. He made her cry. She left. He didn't see her again and threw himself blindly into work. He never pushed his body so far that when the time came to go to Drachma, he was already exhausted. Charged with the task of personally guarding King Dietrich, they entered the snowy country. He already hated it--the biting cold and dark...everything. Then...then there was some light. Csilla crashed into his life again and surprised him almost to silence...almost. He managed to stoically recite an apology, but the topic was thwarted to his dismay. He would never admit that it had made him angry, however, it did. He was pissed and horrified that a single person could evoke so much emotion out of him with just a sentence. More or less...they made up in the end. He wasn't exactly sure how he felt about it, yet he sure as hell felt the damn bullet. He found Takatori in the mess of battle and swore revenge. He failed to the bitter end, not without leaving a mark on the evil man's cheek. Dietrich got shot too. And after...getting kissed by the flippant girl, he raced to his King's feet and only managed to pass out.
After recovering, Ela found himself in South City, taking that same girl out to a fancy dinner. He even lent her his prized white Porsche. He wasn't sure why, but maybe he just needed to tell someone. If he died, at least there would be one person who knew. He attacked a MiW base whose location had been leaked to him. Killing every soul inside, he clung tenaciously to a frayed thread of life, wandering deliriously to Anouk's bar. However, he found it in ruins. His own sister didn't recognize him at first, pointing a trigger at him. He was so far lost, it hardly phased him. Elastor groveled, apologizing in pieces to the one person he had wanted to protect. He had found out from Takatori in Drachma that her husband was killed--that her children were taken from her. He swore to get her kids back, and an opportunity fell in their laps from a rat named Patience. Blow after blow was exchanged until Takatori finally met his end. Ela had to keep holding back his sister, telling her over and over again that he didn't want anymore blood on her hands. He took the burden, plunging his sword through the beast.
Kitaro and Kenta were returned fairly unscathed save for the mental scarring. Nu and the boys, having nowhere else to go, moved in with Ela under his unwavering watch. He'd never let another thing happen to them. Ever again. Except something happened to him. He was...accused of destroying...a doughnut factory by a man named Zenith Howler. This man was batshit nuts. The redhead was completely taken off guard, unbalanced, and thrown into an inescapable confrontation with the deranged detective that later became his closest friend. Well, it made a little sense. His downright despise, disgust, and annoyance with the moldy-cotton-candy-haired inspector somehow turned into a bond of some kind. It was weird, really messed up bond, but it was there in the stubborn, bull-horned arguments the two shared almost constantly when together. In short, they took down illegal Esparians cooking up drugs in the stolen doughnut factory, and went about their days...as partners in
After the war with RIOTE, all the damage caused to the White House, absorbing Vanity's poison, getting saved by Marissa twice, and going to Amestris to successfully retrieve a comatose Lord Dietrich, Csilla returned Ela's car. She brought a friend, Shula Brighton, who taught him the value of life as he faced a possible corrosion towards death. His twenty minutes of remaining life was extended by Zen's blood and two days in the hospital on dialysis. He was hit with a whirlwind of female emotions he couldn't begin to fathom. Cornered, he pushed back, effectively shoving Csi out of his life. She ran away, holding a heart to heart with Ela's sister (the only translator left alive who could interpret his wordful glares). The blond half-breed returned, making up with Ela who promised to try and answer her questions only due to the fact that he was finally starting to feel something again, having had surprised himself with his own words: "I love you, but you can't do this."
→ His favorite flower is a rose.
→ He has never gotten drunk.
→ He killed Takatori, thus, successfully destroying the MiW branch of RIOTE.
→ Anouk is his sister.
→ He often has to watch Ken and Taro, his Nephews.
→ He is a very healthy eater.
→ His favorite food is broccoli.
→ He always obeys the rules.
→ He is very tightly wound (ie has a stick up his ass)
→ Can be viewed as heartless.
→ He can cook.
→ His favorite color is royal blue.
→ If he could glare a light switch on, it would save him the trouble of flipping it.
→ He has an infamous death glare.
→ He is in love with Csilla Angelis.
→ Zen Howler is his best friend.
→ He lives in apartment 1408.
→ He has an undetectable poison in his system from Vanity, resulting occasionally in the inability to breathe and coughing up blood.
→ His favorite pastime is reading.
→ Frequently used vocabulary includes: “hn” and “…”
→ In the Dictionary of Ela ‘nice’ means ‘leave me alone’.
→ Fluent in Cretan, Amestrian, Xingese, and Drachman.
→ Spade & Aurel
→ For you, Andrea <3
[b]HAKUOUKI SHINSENGUMI KITAN[/b]/[i]Okita Souji[/i]
→ DESERT ROSE
→ JAILED HEART
→ TIN MAN
Last edited by Elastor Ito on Sat Apr 20, 2013 6:52 pm; edited 20 times in total
A P P R O V E D
- Posts : 1014
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- Posts : 1014
Points : 87
The member 'Dai' has done the following action : Rank Roll
'Lieutenant Roll' : 7
'Lieutenant Roll' : 7
- Posts : 1014
Points : 87
Applying for level three!
"There's more to this than just black and white. The world can't be divided into that. There's reds and blues and greens and even more colors. How can you judge someone by one of two shades? It just doesn't seem fair to remain blind to rainbow, just because there's a puddle in your path."
→ Speaks Aerugese, Amestrian (Magenta), Acented Cretan (darkcyan), Knows small bits of Xingese (Jade)
Iris' theme song
STERN FACE OF STERNNESS. @_@
STERN FACE OF STERNNESS. @_@
Jay speaks Rouenian (Gelemortian), Amestrian, Ishvallan, Aerugese, Cretan, and Esparian
Daidara is a big, fat, unsexy, b00b! Fan Club
Darky In A Mini! xD
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