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 Dill, quinten, cat shifter | 13 | jack dylan grazer
QUINTEN DILL
 Posted: Nov 4 2017, 02:22 PM
13
years old
alianor
1st year page
chatterbox
sassy
about
Quin is a lil tragic baby kitten. Born a bastard, he lost his parents and never saw his big brother again. Himself and his other older brother were rescued by the Lowell family, and he was bonded to their youngest son. He is at the Knight Academy now, and dreams of helping reclaim his home country of Emeraude.
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jack dylan grazer
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Quinten Alessandro Dill

NICKNAME:
Quin

MEMBER GROUP:
Emeraudian Refugee

PLAYBY:
Jack Dylan Grazer

SEXUALITY:
bisexual with a preference for boys

YEAR OF BIRTH:
1893 CE

CURRENT AGE (BY SPRING 1906):
13

OCCUPATION:
Academy Student

SPECIES:
Cat Shifter

LOCATION:
Samavia

History

Quinten was a surprise to the Dill family. He was the result of an affair of his father and a priestess he fell for. She left little mewling Quinten on the Dill's step, and his big brother Atticus found him there, taking him into his capable arms and delivering him to his father. He instigated a fight between his parents with his mere existence, but his mother decided to ultimately forgive his father after he begged her to take the boy in. After all, it wasn't Quin’s fault he was born. Atticus, his oldest brother, was already 17 when he was born; Evander, his second oldest brother, was only 8. They both were so warm with him, protective of him. From the moment Atticus had taken him into his arms, he had been loved.

He was an aberration from his human siblings, being born a cat shifter. As a baby supernatural in their home of Emeraude, he grew up safe, never having to hide his identity. He always followed Evander, who followed Atticus, like a row of ducklings.

Quinten was a toddler when it all happened, just barely conscious of the goings-on around him. Atticus was away at work when it happened. Atticus had promised him a trip to the candy store upon his return. The trip never came.

The shouting started. Wails of pain, emotional and physical, in the streets around him. A bloody hand landed at his feet, covering his tiny face in blood. His parents ushered him inside, packing all of their necessary things amid the chaos. His father told him and Evander to wait just outside. Not one minute later, a deafening explosion blew through their house. He couldn’t even hear his own scream as he blacked out.

He woke up nestled in his brother Evander’s arms in cat form, in a strange place, filled with strange smells. A blonde woman with a kind smile greeted him. He liked her smile. It reminded him of his mom's smile, and he felt safe. Her name was Elizabeth Lowell, and she took him to her home.

They had lived in a bigger city in Emeraude before, so Quin had never seen the country. But the farmland, the grass, the wheat-he loved it. He loved the horses too, the beautiful ones that this branch of the Lowell family was known for breeding.

He met Weland the first time he went to the house. Weland was there, with his sister Callista, and his parents Karen and William. He was tall, much older than himself, with floppy blonde hair that made him look like a young prince from a fairytale. Though Weland was hesitant to commit to their connection, he couldn’t deny it for long. While Weland was brooding, Quin was talking his ear off. He was a chatterbox, always talking to who was nearest, usually Weland. He even got Weland to smile every once in a while, and never hesitated to call the older boy out when he was wrong. They fought more than they got on, but they could never stay mad at each other.

Quinten found a home with these people. They gave himself and his brother protection, and a warm bed, and food, and clothes, though Evander never felt as comfortable with them as Quinten did. He was so young that soon enough, he was calling William “Dad” and Karen “Mom”, to Evander’s evident chagrin. Elizabeth and Callista were always lavishing the precious boy with gifts. Soon enough, Weland was bonded with Quin as his familiar. They were an unconventional, odd pair, sure, but there was no doubt that they were meant for each other. They clicked, being near exact opposites of each other.

Evander was hardly home as the years went on. He returned a couple times a week or so to make sure his baby brother hadn’t been caught in the bloodfeud that existed between the Lowells and the Astors, but this branch of the Lowells never were quite as involved.

As he grew and began to develop his identity, he felt quite caught in the middle. Was he a Dill? Or a Lowell? Was he heterosexual? Or homosexual? Was he Evander’s little brother? Or Weland’s?

It took him a long while before he figured out that he could be both. He was a Dill, it was in his blood and they had given him love, but the Lowells gave him a home when he needed one most. He liked boys (especially Weland) but he also liked girls. He bossed around both Evander and Weland, in different ways.

He was formulating his identity during his schooling, which was the only thing he felt he had talent in. In addition to learning maths, history, English, and Latin (he loved the language), he was also taught the ways of the land. He was taught how to ride a horse, how to tell quality in an animal by appearance, how to tell when a pasture had been overgrazed, and so on. He liked working with horses especially. They were great big beauties, double his size at least, so that he had to stand on a stool to pat their long heads or to mount them.

He was proficient in every subject ever taught to him, but he excelled especially in history. The history of the world and of Lairea absolutely fascinated him. Every issue that ever existed had reasons for existing, which usually amounted to the fact that Laireans were exceptional at messing with established order.

The only subject he could never crack was combat arts. He wasn’t strong, nor was he big. He felt frustrated by physical activity, since he was so adept at everything else. He had a dream; a dream to become a knight known by the realm who helped to take back Emeraude from evil and be remembered by the history books he so adored. But how could he be a knight if he couldn’t even swing a training sword?

He knew the only way to achieve his dream was to go to the knight academy. Fortunately for him, his new family had a title and money, so when he begged the Lowells to sponsor him, they were more than happy to do so.

Being at the academy has been a dream come true, although it's kicking his tiny butt. He loves the people there, and Weland and Evander even come to visit him sometimes. He goes back to his dorm at the end of the night exhausted on a daily basis, but it's a thrill, really. He couldn't ask for more.

He's just starting to experiment with other boys and girls at the academy, and he’s made a few friends. He’s just starting to come to terms with what happened when he was a child in Emeraude, and he has a lot of questions about his family and himself. He can only hope someone will answer them.

P.S. Happy birthday Puppy! I love you!

Personality
Methodical: Quinten has OCD, and so he has a strange need for everything to be organized in a certain way. He is not methodical in a traditional way. He is methodical in his own way, which involves a lot of skepticism. He questions and doubts everything presented to him, which is annoying, but it makes him a proficient learner.

Spoiled: Quinten has Youngest Child Syndrome ™. He was spoiled and loved as a baby with the Dills, and also with the Lowells, though they had more money to spoil him with. He has gotten just about everything he has asked for and everything he hasn’t asked for, too (see: Weland). He is not used to not getting what he wants, and this will present a problem for him eventually.

Chatterbox: Geez, does this kid shut up? He will talk your ear off whether you give him the chance or not. He means well and is trying to be friendly (most times) but he sometimes comes off as just plain bothersome. It’s adorable and endearing though.

Sassy: Quinten has way too much sass and sarcasm for his tiny body. In fact, it’s probably because he’s so tiny that he has so much wit. He has a sharp tongue, and is never afraid to say what he means. He doesn’t curse, but it makes it all the more hilarious when he’s trying to insult you. Which he will, probably. Bless his tiny heart.

Sample RP
please refer to Gawain Gray-Lyons.
^
QUEEN OF SWORDS
 Posted: Nov 8 2017, 02:49 PM
about
I guess I am the scary spice admin. Holler! Feel free to send me a pm or a message on skype if you have any questions or just want to chat! <3
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Accepted
Welcome to Glory & Gore! Your character has been accepted. Don't forget to fill out the Face Claim and all of the appropriate claims! You can find the links above. Feel free to fill out your mini-profile. We hope you like it here!
He may not know it yet but Quinten has lived a pretty lucky life. He's had two families that have loved him and cherished him. One is even helping his dreams come true.

Hopefully instead of longing for his familiar witch lol he can start to appreciate all h has gained in his young life. .

^
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