Dominic Stryder Rosenfeld [D7]

[Murphy]

All things in the world are two.
In our minds we are two, good and evil.
With our eyes we see two things,
things that are fair and things that are ugly....
We have the right hand that strikes and makes for evil,
and we have the left hand full of kindness, near the heart.
One foot may lead us to an evil way,
the other foot may lead us to a good.
So are all things two, all two.

~ Eagle Chief (Letakos-Lesa) Pawnee

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[/b]:: Dominic Stryder Rosenfeld
Age:: 17
Gender:: Male
Residency:: District 7

Appearance::

Dominic, at a first glance, wouldn't look like a harmful fellow. He stands at 6'5", has a lean frame, short black hair, and emerald green eyes. However, if you looked closer at his eyes, you would notice that they seem to glow with the instability of a schizophrenic on the edge. His hands are calloused from helping his father fell trees, and his skin has numerous scars from slivers and snapping chains hitting his arms.

Personality::

Dominic is the kind of guy that no one really wants to befriend, simply because he usually is talking to himself in a low, guttural tone. The voice he hears inside his head frequently hisses at him, telling him what to do at times and usually it's not a good thing. He doesn't really think of the consequences while acting, nor do they occur to him until a while after the event has happened.

When -- or if -- he ever gets into fights, he usually is a rough opponent. Dominic is pretty used to hand-to-hand combat because of boxing so much in the past. However, whenever blood gets drawn in a fight, Dominic goes insane, not metaphorically speaking. His eyes become bloodshot, and he attacks as brutally as he can, determined to draw more blood. It's a sick obsession to everyone else, but to him, it's just how his mind functions. Other than his lust for blood, the only thing that can really hit home with him is if someone mentions his father. Because he was accidental killed my Dominic's own hand, he'll usually go after the person who had brought it up, tears streaming down his face as he yells curses and threats.

Dominic doesn't really have a "calm" side. His kind of calm is just staying silent and restraining himself from lunging at anyone. If he can do that, he considers himself calm. He doesn't usually pick fights, though he will on occasion, depending on the situation. The boy honestly cherishes any friends he may have, simply because who in their right mind would ever befriend a psychopathic schizophrenic? If one ever chooses to have him by their side, whether it be in battle or just to talk, there is no better ally. He becomes like a puppy to its master, willing to do whatever they say, simply because they chose him as a friend.

History::

Growing up in District 7 was dangerous for Dominic, especially since he helped his father fell trees and build sheds. They were one of the poorer families of the District, so their equipment wasn't very up-to-date, but they made enough to make it by with a little extra. Ever since the day he could walk, he went around picking up twigs and putting them on the pile of massive logs, wanting to help his father in any way. Symptoms of his schizophrenia began to show when he was about two, and it began with the voice in his head. The boy, frequently terrified by the voice, would flee to his mother, who would comfort him and try to make things better. She was the only one who could get to him and calm his hysteria down; however, his mother was killed when he was about six because a chain holding the logs had snapped and hit her head with such force that it took her life instantly. Even though he and his father were devastated, his father comforted his son by continuously telling him that she was in a better place, and he believed him, hanging on to every word his father said. Dominic continued to help with felling trees and building, though.

However, while at school, Dominic was frequently bullied because he talked to himself (when really he was just answering the voice in his head). He would often come home with a black eye, and his father had had enough of that. He began to teach his son to box, though since they hadn't any protective gear, it was more like Roman pankration. Of course, it was slow going at first, but Dominic eventually became better and better, frequently challenging his father to playful matches.

Dominic's schizophrenia progressively became worse and worse, up to the point where he would curl up in a corner, plugging his ears, rocking back and forth, and even humming to himself to drown out the voice. His father would try to comfort him, which the boy accepted, though it was getting harder to ignore the voice. It eventually started telling him what to do, and it gave some very convincing reasons that eventually made him obey. It started out with just stealing little things from others, but it eventually grew into hitting classmates, which got him kicked out of school at some points. His father, although disappointed with Dominic, knew there was nothing he could do to help.

So as the years drew on, Dominic never really used the pankration-style fighting against anyone in public, though he still had matches with his dad. However, when he had just turned fifteen years old, during one of their playful matches, Dominic accidental scraped his dad's arm, drawing blood. "Oh, it's fine, Dominic, don't worry about it." He had said, but the boy's eyes were wide and becoming bloodshot. The voice in his head was screaming at him, hissing, threatening, cursing, telling him to draw more blood. The boy growled and lunged at his father, knocking him down as a result of the man being off guard. Of course, his father was trying to talk Dominic out of whatever it was he was doing, but the boy wasn't listening. He tried to strangle his father, but as he was knocked off, he scrambled back up and tried to get at him again, but he was still knocked off. Enraged, Dominic looked around quickly, he spotted a short tree limb. Picking it up, he charged at his dad while he was trying to stand, and hit him across the head with it. His father was knocked back down, and Dominic was right on top of him, beating the man's head with the stick despite the pleas coming from the wounded man. The boy continued to strike at his father's head until he grew silent, and slowly the beatings stopped. Blood, skin, skull fragments, and grey brain matter had been spewed on the ground from the large crack in his father's head, staining the grass.

Exhausted, he looked down at the motionless man, snapping back into reality. "Father...?" He asked in a small voice, noticing the blood running down his father's head. "Father....?" He asked again, his voice cracking as tears began to well up in his eyes. Tossing the stick aside, he dropped down to his hands and knees, nudging his father as if he'd wake up. "Don't leave me! I'm sorry, father! I didn't mean to!" He cried, tears streaming down his face as he looked into the lifeless eyes of his father. Dominic began to weep bitterly, curling up next to the dead body, hitting his own head with his fists, wailing about his own stupidity.

He stayed by his dead father's side until dusk when he stood up, wiped his puffy red eyes, gave one last look at his lifeless father before turning and running. He didn't know where to, but he really wanted to live in another District and maybe turn over a new leaf there -- or maybe even make a home in the wilderness -- though as he ran, the voice hissed in his head: You'll never be the same. His blood will always be on your hands, and all you'll do is spill more blood. All your loved ones, all your friends, all your enemies -- they'll all suffer because of you.

Code::: <Edited out by Wolf Tears>

Other:: Uhhhhh......... x3

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[Wolf Tears]

Dom. <3 Totally accepted, but you probably already knew that~.