Post by Colton Black on Nov 12, 2016 2:45:15 GMT
COLTON TIBERIUS BLACK
"Feeding the wolves... don't you know better?"
"Whew! You’re cold as ice, officer friendly.”
Full name • Colton T. Black
Nicknames • Colt
Age • Twenty-Seven
Birthday • October 23rd
Gender • Male
Sexuality • Heterosexual
Former Occupation • Commercial Pilot/Amateur Extreme Photographer
Alexandria Role: N/A
face claim • Ian Somerhalder
"Oh, Reverend Shane's preaching to you now, boy."
Colton is a rather... complicated man. He's a man who has seen a lot since the world went to hell... a man who has survived a lot. One who isn't afraid to make the tough calls, to act when there's seconds to make a decision. He's a man who has nothing to lose. He isn't exactly sound of mind anymore. By standards that makes him a very dangerous individual in today's shards of society. He might not bother to argue with you about it, because he already knows he's a lost cause. He very well may invite you to join him though, if you're lucky... and useful. He gave up ages ago trying to be the hero, because he knows some people are too far gone, and some just don't want to be saved. Some you can't save, no matter how hard you try, and when they're snatched away from you it only tears off a little more of you until you too are gone. When it boils down to it honestly, the only thing Colton gives a damn about anymore is himself. He doesn't have to tell you this, if you haven't gotten the message within' the first five minutes of knowing him you're either smitten, or stupid.
His outside facade seems to suggest Colt is in an agonizing state of boredom, simply replaying a monotonous existence, moving from place to place. He doesn't settle down, because things get complicated then. He craves stimulation, almost to the point that its maddening, so it isn't a surprise when he connects with a group there's a period of chaos and pandemonium while he has his little fun. He's conniving, manipulative, predatory, and highly intelligent. He likes pitting friends against one another, exposing lies, disrupting order and challenging authority, and especially collecting hearts and breaking them to pieces. Especially if they belong to someone else. Colton will entertain himself with a group until he can get his hands on something useful before vanishing entirely as if he had never been there without a second look back. If he stays it's almost certain some terrible ill fate will befall them, perhaps even by his own hand. It might be a little sad that Colt was a recluse, even before the world ended, and he thinks it's a clever karma-tic curse that he can't seem to function in a group, even if he repented his wicked ways and tried to regain the humanity he has left. If he isn't sabotaging things, then he's running, or someone is coming along to make sure the happily ever after is terribly short lived for everyone... except Colton of course. He's never that lucky.
Once you've broke the ice with Colt, his curt, snide exterior melts away into sarcastic retorts, shameless advances and a calm, collected confidence that tends to fool anyone into thinking the better of him. He's very good at masking the malevolent, unstable man he's become behind his obnoxiously devilish charm... he makes himself useful and presents himself as a well spoken, observant young man simply trying to get by. He might come off as cocky, or arrogant at best, but generally doesn't appear to be a threat, and that is exactly how he likes it. He doesn't really form any serious attachments, which is to be expected in this day and age... he doesn't know loyalties, or trust, it is incredibly hard to have Colt entirely lower his guard with you. To the day no one has managed to reach such a personal level with Colt and honestly, he's not sure if its possible anymore, or what he would do if he ever allowed someone into his life like that.
Before everything went to hell Colton worked as a pilot living in a shitty little flat right beneath the airport in North Carolina, and was married to a stewardess who he didn't love, trying to start a family he didn't want. He'd given up his dreams on being a photographer when the expenses for traveling became too much for him and his estranged family began pressuring him about reproducing and settling down--maybe even joining the family business. He and his wife would be home together maybe one week out of the month, and the entire time she'd argue with him or complain about the noise... One morning out of the blue she stood bitching at him in the bathroom doorway about the noise as if there was something he could do about it when a Boeing 747 came crashing through the ceiling. He survived having a plane dropped on him with a few scratches, cuts and bruises, and maybe a mild concussion... but of course waking to a snarling, bloody corpse ripped in half at the torso trying to pull him out of his bed was something he had never in his life anticipated. He pulled himself from the wreckage, bodies of the dead still strapped to their seats trying urgently to reach him. The only reason Colton escaped so unscathed was because the majority of them were busy eating his wife's corpse to notice him stumbling down the hall of the burning building.
From there he'll tell you, the story isn't terribly flattering. He ran with a few groups here and there... some of them good, wonderful people. The others, wild, ruthless--some even killers. He learned what he needed from them... how to hunt, how to scavenge, how to bear arms. Colt has done things he isn't proud of, and those are the stories he avoids telling the most... the ones you can't come back from. The ones that would make him a monster. He keeps it all buried deep down, still searching for some place he might belong.
"I hereby declare we have spaghetti Tuesdays every Wednesday"
The match struck the side of the box, the scent of fire, and sulfur stinging his nostrils. The filter slipped between his lips and he inhaled deeply, almost regretting it... the cigarettes were stale. All cigarettes were stale nowadays. The nostalgia though, that was worth it. A slow smile crept over his lips, clear eyes lazily drifting through the dark, across the fire, landing on the man sitting in the dirt at the feet of two of his own men.
"So... you're a thief, they tell me," Colt mumbled lazily around the cigarette. The man's chest was heaving. He looked up through the flames with his good eye, the swelling and blood around the other surely making it a task to clearly look upon the face of the man he surely figured would decide if he walked away from this tonight. The sound of metal scraping metal broke the dead of night, the dogs shifting so their chains rattled ever so gently, and not a word from the group around him. All eyes on him. Ah, Colton could get used to that. Long fingers drew the cigarette from his mouth as he slowly circled the dim fire burning in the center of their make shift camp. The chill tonight made it necessary... the dead weren't so much a concern when they were out in the open like this on a road not much traveled... which made him wonder even more what in the world this man was doing out here, alone. Why in God's name draw attention to yourself even?
"What'd he take?" The man at his side handed him a bag, and Colt shifted through it lazily, not finding anything out of the usual among the supplies... venison jerky, bottled water, sterile bandages... what caught his eye though was tiny, insignificant--downright stupid, if he didn't know any better. A tiny wooden bear. One of his boys had a knack for taking his hunting knife to pencils when he was particularly bored.
"Interesting that you'd need a little trinket like this out here in the middle of no where." Colt held the little figurine up into the firelight... and caught a glimpse of fear glowing in the captive thief's eyes. He swallowed hard, his heavy breathing shrinking to only the occasional slow, painfully fear-striken rise and fall.
"You got a group thief? ...Family, maybe?" There was a significant twitch to the man's body, a quiver that gave him away, and caused the lazy smirk upon Colton's lips to widen as he stopped before his kneeling captive. He was a man... maybe at one time a lawyer, or doctor, or CEO of some fancy important company. Now though? Now he was at his mercy. Now, he was shrinking into a crumbling pile at his feet at the mere thought of endangering others with his foolishness. Colton's gaze passed from the men in his group, none of which seemed to have any problem with him when he grabbed the man by the throat, and pulled the cigarette from his mouth. "Let's see if they wanna come out and say hi, huh?" Without warning he pressed the smoldering tip of the burning cigarette into the man's good eye, the blood-curdling scream ripping into the darkness. His group began to laugh, the painful yelling and squirming the man did upon the ground doing little to help him as Colt placed his boot upon the injured man's back and kicked him into the camp fire.
"Come out, come out, where ever you are!" He yelled into the darkness, waving a hand to his boys dismissively.
"Go on. Go find our new friends. I'm sure they're listening and their thief has them on the run."
"The whole world's having a tough time"
Alias • NyxHow'd you find us • Ad surfing another site!
Other characters • N/A
Other • i like chocolate milk. = w =
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