Take The Risk -> PACITTI, Dante Phoenix

PACITTI, Dante Phoenix

Track this topic | Email this topic | Print this topic

Dante Pacitti	Posted: Aug 31 2008, 01:59 PM .quote
Newbie Group: Members Posts: 1 Member No.: 14 Joined: 30-August 08	``DANTE �PHOENIX� PACITTI. quote that describes your character Twenty ways to see the world (oh-ho) name;; Dante Philip Pacitti. nickname;; Goes by the name of �Phoenix� for his business ventures. birthday/age;; February 2nd, Twenty-one years of age. hometown;; Milan, Italy. sexuality;; Pansexual. occupation;;Male escort, casino hired. Twenty ways to start a fight height;; Six feet two inches. weight;; One hundred and forty pounds. overall;; here. played by;; Kevin Flamme. Oh, men don't notice what they got likes;; Money, being praised, compliments, the spotlight, Monaco, sunshine, sailing, the ocean, dogs, rum and coke, menthol cigarettes, orange juice, designer shoes, women in boots, brunettes, writing in pencil, clouds, smoked salmon, and silk against skin. dislikes;; Being called a liar, people who won�t book the suites, cats, sandy beaches, snow, his accent, being called a whore, hip hop, the smell of cannabis, Frisbees, mosh pits, celebrities, mobile phones, Pepsi, macaroni cheese, and the Hollywood thing. strengths;; Manipulative. Lies come so easily to him, even he cannot keep the truth from fiction. A seducer of men and women, he always knows what someone wants to hear. Encouraging people to spend money � naturally he is a fan of champagne and lobster. Saccharine sweetness gets him out of trouble � most of the time. weaknesses;; He tells so many lies it�s hard to keep track of them. Jealous and needy, he often drives people away with his clumsy affections. A sucker for beauty, he thrives on it, male, female or otherwise. Money is his downfall, he�d sell his soul for fifty bucks (and some would argue he already has). Dogs � he loves the simplicity of them, their unquestioning devotion, if only all relationships were that easy. fears;; Authority has always frightened him, after all he was brought up to be a good boy, and is wary of security guards and police alike. Being alone � he cannot stand the thought of it, and even on his nights off, he goes out in pursuit of quick company. Flying, he�s never been good with it, hence the reason he arrived in Monaco and not Las Vegas. Going all that way trapped inside a metal cylinder would just be the end of him. Some of the criminal characters lurking around the casino terrify him, although Dante has never met any of them. He�s heard enough stories to know to watch his back. Losing his job � right now, his job means everything to him, and he cannot face the idea of returning home, shame faced, to his parents and throwing himself at their mercy. quirks;; Bites his fingernails, sometimes to the point of making them bleed. It�s a childhood habit he cannot shake off. Never wears matching socks � not for any particular reason, but he cannot be bothered to match them up. Dante has an aversion to odd numbers � he thinks something bad will happen to him if, say, the volume on his mp3 is at 11 instead of 12. He can only face drinking rum and coke when they are mixed together, and never drinks them separately. He is always on the bottom � always. overall;; As far as Dante is concerned, he has two equally diverse sides to his personality which make up who he is as a whole. The first, of course, is Dante � the real him, the person. Dante is an intelligent boy, however he has a yearning for fame and fortune which goes beyond the usual shallow means of being wealthy and driving a fast car. Perhaps he didn�t receive enough love in his childhood, or perhaps he�s just greedy, but whatever the reason, he craves attention like it is going out of fashion. Because of this need for physical contact, he has been all but abandoned by his parents, who consider him to be immoral even though he is a sensitive and easily damaged young man. Dante takes everything literally and goes out of his way to try and please people, his bumbling naivety perhaps somewhat of a cover up for the darkness at his core. The other side of his personality � which originated only to be a character, a persona for the boy to play to live out his fantasies of being in the spotlight, is totally opposite, and over the brief months he has been known as Phoenix, the boy�s faceted character has amalgamated to make one confusing mess which means that nobody really gets to know him. Phoenix is a manipulator of people in order to bend them to his whim, and get what he wants. He feels no conscience for seducing lonely and desperate people in order to generate revenue for the casino � after all, the casino pays his wages, why should he be concerned? Sly and cunning, he finds it easy to lie and flatter his way into people�s lives, and he is like an animal in his approach to business � ruthless and unforgiving. Nobody is above him, or so Phoenix would like to think. He is a God amongst men, capable of making anybody sign over anything he wants them to. The fact that he is beautiful, of course, always helps, but his wit and intense charisma seem to topple even that one solid fact. For someone so narcissistic and vain, it is perhaps surprising that he had never experienced a �proper� relationship � or then again, perhaps it is not so strange. Dante enjoys being in relationships where he is spoiled and flaunted, and unfortunately that usually equates to him being used. However he has no complaints with this system, as long as someone is there to lavish affection on him and throw money his direction, Dante can live without commitment and the promise of everlasting love, whatever that might entail. His flings are short lived because he grows bored easily, even when being doted upon with trinkets and toys which appeal to him � he has a penchant for designer shoes, and although he could afford to support his habit on his own, it�s much more fun to get somebody else to do it for him, after all. An aspiring actor, Dante is as melodramatic as he is high. He has an ability to blow the smallest problems totally out of proportion and has gained himself quite the reputation for being somewhat of a prima donna. He has managed to crush the bitter memory of his failed acting hopes behind a wall of alcohol, and by convincing himself that what he is doing with his life now is almost acting, in a way. After all, Phoenix is a part to play in the vast rooms of the casino, and he is grateful that Monaco has provided him with such a lovely stage and garish platform upon which to show his prowess to the world. Of course he�s going to end up falling one day, he can�t carry on like this forever in his blissful bubble of an imaginary world. And we all know the old clich� � the higher they are, the harder they fall. Oh, women think of that a lot... parents;; Martino Pacitti, 51, Step-father, Managing Director. Violetta Pacitti, 48, Maternal mother, Former model. siblings;; Valentine Pacitti, 15. other family;; None. pets;; A Miniature Doberman called, quite appropriately, Bruiser. And Countless odd religions, too personal history;; explain in detail four paragraphs min It doesn't matter which you choose (oh no) name;; LOULOU! other characters;; None yet. member title;; not too long rp sample;; Phoenix had never been blessed with what one might consider as a healthy understanding of basic social etiquette, nor did he know when it was wise to just keep his mouth shut and say nothing. His lack of boundaries and compulsive desire to let everyone and anyone know what he was thinking at any given time had gotten him into trouble more times than Phoenix would dare to remember, but with the benefit of hindsight and a few hours of quiet reflection, confessing his undying love to his headmaster was, quite possibly, the most ridiculously stupid thing he had ever done. With a few short sentences typed furiously into his laptop he�d given away his darkest secret and laid himself bare at the mercy of the very man he confessed to loving, and even the boy himself had been bowled over by his own reckless, adolescent futility. Having been brought up to believe that he was number one, spoiled as much as his parents could manage, surrounded by beautiful people and beautiful things, Phoenix really did harbour the belief that he was something different � something special above the average man in the street. Despite this belief, though, he�d always treated everyone as an equal, secretly locking away the knowledge that he had something else, something special inside of him that one day would shine through and prove itself to the world. He�d hoped that Joe, of all people, would have spotted that radiant glimmer, that spark of vitality that made him so very special, but apparently it had been overlooked judging by the older man�s outright, stubborn rejection of the idea that the two of them could create something exquisite together. It was obviously a mistake on Joe�s part, Phoenix�s stubborn brain convinced him as he dressed himself, shaking all over, to go and face up to the consequences of his little rant. One day he�d see it for himself and perhaps by then it would be too late. But tonight was theirs, and Phoenix was going to make the most of it. Being invited over to the headmaster�s house, however grudgingly, was definitely a step in the right direction for the future of their relationship. There was no point going over what he�d said and regretting it now � there was nothing he could do to take it back, although he felt terrible for saying such spiteful things about Anne, who had only ever been there for him and put up with him crying on her shoulder as he revealed the deepest, most personal side of his psyche. As far as his confession to Joe went � well, at least it was out in the open now. The older man could act on it if he wanted, or just leave it alone. Phoenix�s lack of respect for the social norm meant that he really wasn�t bothered about the older man knowing, or so he thought, at least. If Joe wanted to make things awkward and get embarrassed whenever they were together, that was his problem. It would hurt like hell, of course, but it was something Joe would have to deal with on his own. Phoenix caught the eight forty five bus across down and sat staring out of the window throughout the entire journey. It was raining and the evening had grown dark quickly � a reasonable pathetic fallacy for Phoenix�s mood, he thought with a sneer. He�d only ever been to Joe�s apartment once before, and that had been just to drop off a well-worn and much loved Sartre book that he had promised to lend the headmaster. Frowning to himself now, Phoenix reflected that he�d never gotten that book back. Knowing his headmaster, it was probably acting as the supporting plinth for a mountain of paperwork or lying forgotten and gathering dust down the side of his bed. It was easy enough to convince yourself that you disliked someone if you gathered little snippets of ammunition like that one together and formed them into one big, explosive weapon � Joe was a book thief. And not only a book thief, but a Sartre thief. Getting off the bus two blocks early (because he still had to shed five pounds before he was down to his target weight goal for the week), Phoenix shoved his hands into his pockets and kept his head down, his long striding walk covering the ground with a headstrong and rapid continuity. Pausing outside of Joe�s building, Phoenix turned his head up to the sky, his brown eyes narrowed against the plump raindrops which scattered themselves liberally over his face. The lights were blazing from the penthouse � a beacon in an otherwise desolate and despairing world. Clearing his throat nervously, Phoenix ignored the group of men who pushed past him � work colleagues, drunk and uncaring, the usual complaints that he was a �faggot� or a �fairy� barely even making it into his consciousness. With the arrogance and vanity of youth Phoenix knew half of them would fuck him if they were given the slightest chance. Summoning every shred of his courage (which had been totally eradicated almost, just to get him this far) the boy turned up the collar of his leather jacket and strode up the steps to the imposing front door of the building. He could see himself living here � but for now he pushed such thoughts of permanence from his mind and reached out to press the buzzer on the intercom, reading the peeling label which still bore the previous tenant�s name with a smile. Organisation. There was another bullet of hatred to stow away for use another time. Phoenix hadn�t exactly dressed up for their rendezvous, but he�d certainly made an effort. The leather jacket that was protecting him from some of the weather at least had been a recent find and had quickly escalated itself to be an object of comfort, a safety blanket almost. He�d found it in a vintage store, crumpled and forlorn and lonely, and had fallen for it straight away. He�d only paid twenty dollars for the thing and upon getting it home discovered that not only was it a designer piece, but it was over sixty years old. Very James Dean, old school rocker and it made him feel invincible. Beneath that he had donned a blood-red Blondie t-shirt, after all Debbie Harry could be accounted amongst his vast list of heroes, with skin-tight black pants and a pair of red, pointed toe Chelsea boots, the tops of which were hidden under the hems of his unimaginably tight pants. The studded belt he wore around his hips was a mark of victory for his current weight-loss infatuation � that day he�d needed to make an extra hole in the end, because even on the very last fastening, the thing sagged in the front. It was by simple gauges like that that allowed Phoenix to congratulate himself on losing weight. The rest of the time he just saw himself as fat, a constant blurry outline of obesity that didn�t seem to change no matter how little he ate or how hard he exercised. As the door lock buzzed, Phoenix pushed himself into the building, grateful for the immediate warmth and shelter that it provided to his wind-stung cheeks and tingling fingertips. He pushed the button for the elevator and stepped inside, scaling the heights with his back against the wall. He was riding in the same car Joe had obviously used recently � a sting of cologne hung in the air, comforting him, letting his mind wander to thoughts of the other man undertaking the same monotonous journey he was doing now. Phoenix stepped hesitantly out of the metal box at the apex of the building, gathering his strength as he rang the doorbell and leaned against the wall, expectant of a prompt answer. He greeted Joe with a sheepish smile, shamefaced and even allowing himself to blush a little bit, his eyes still red from the tears of heartbreak he'd shed over his headmaster's stubborn refusal of the facts, before he stepped into the apartment and took a moment to look around. The place was exactly what he�d been expecting � cavernous, expensive, too much for one man on his own. Phoenix briefly wondered if Anne had been here � if she�d stood on this very spot, gazing around like the idiot he�d suddenly become somewhere between leaving his own door and coming in through this one. His footsteps echoed on the polished floor as they found their way into the lounge, and the boy sat himself down gingerly on the edge of the couch. He felt out of place there, uncomfortable not due to the surroundings but by the bitter sting of disappointment that he felt radiating from his headmaster, his mentor � the man he loved. Phoenix�s knees pressed together, his elbows resting on them, the slender arms with their delicate hands trailing off into space although his fingers were wrung together in a vain attempt of composure. His eyes were down turned to stare intently at the toes of his red boots, and then he looked up, unable to stand the silence any longer. And before he knew it Phoenix was off on another tirade � so much for learning from his mistakes. �Listen, Joe. First of all I want to say that I hope you haven�t asked me up here because you feel sorry for me. If that�s the case, I�ll just leave now. I want a lot of things from you but pity just isn�t one of them. Secondly, I�m sorry for what I said about Anne. You know how I feel about her � she�s actually one of my best friends � and it was spiteful and unnecessary and I�m sorry if it hurt you. I know what I said earlier, about loving you, about being in love with you � I know it came as a shock and it�s a lot to take in, especially here and now, looking back on it � but I want you to know that I meant every word, I�d do anything you asked if it meant we could be together, that we could share something special. And whilst we�re at it, can I have my Sartre book back, please?� The boy paused for breath, suddenly feeling very young and very vulnerable. He was shaking � he could feel it so violently that he was sure the intense tremouring of his shoulders and legs would not go unnoticed by the older man � but he tried to force a valiant smile as the distraught melancholy inhabiting his beautifully soft brown eyes turned upwards to meet the gaze of his mentor, and Phoenix extended a shaky hand to gesture at the bottle of scotch which hadn�t escaped his attention. �Can I get some of that, Joe? It would really help right now. And a cigarette, if you�ve got one spare. I seem to have left my pack in my other pants.� how you found us;; I�m a compulsive advert browser.
	pm email ��

« Next Oldest | pending | Next Newest »