[Syla Delaney]

He was originally human, and had quite a bit of difficulty in his time at the 23rd Lab. He hates to think about it, and becomes deeply bothered when the subject is brought up. He has a dark, brooding, and cynical personality, but can be brought out through kindness, to reveal his wicked sense of humor.
The spikes implanted in his back can grow larger by his will, but don't shoot out. They have deadly poison. He has long, sharp claws on his fingertips that are retracteable, and are also poisonous.
He loves wearing scarves, and strappy knee-high boots.
Amazing musician.
Wants to live with someone that understands him, and doesn't mind what he's become. Looking for a friend that he can play music with, and be comfortable around.

[Your Username;] Maestro Bleu



[Name;]

The Unearthly Ones Scratched And Clawed
Their Way Out Of The Grave
Called Forth By The Fear
Of The Children Lying Awake
Foul And Grotesque
And Don't Let Their Whispers Possess
Or Your Life's Done
And You'll Join The Unearthly Ones



[Based on Damon and Pythias; Greek Mythology]




[Why you want him/like him;]
I draw a lot, and have been on the look-out for some great human characters, and he just so happens to be the exact portrayal of what I want in a character. <3 His color scheme is wondrous and it doesn't clash what-so-ever. He has the perfect amount of flaws for a good character, and a personality just screaming to be drawn.



[Backstory;]
Damon is in a chaotic state of mind. Being exposed to Lab 23 has changed him, in many ways. Life has become cruel, almost intolerable at times. Walking down a street is nearly impossible without getting glared at. Shops? Not a chance. Normal has not been a word to describe him for years now. It's a word that spits in his face, and makes him resort to hatred. It all started four years ago, when applying for highschools with gifted music programs. Damon had always been a violin player form the moment he picked up the instrument at age seven. He mastered all of the basics the very first year he began to play it. The instrument was connected to his soul, that was how he always envisioned it as he played the melodies from memory. By the age of 11, Damon could play by ear, any tune you threw at him he could repeat flawlessly. He knew the instrument better than he knew the palm of his hand. His parents were always supportive of him, paying for private lessons, cheering him on, and felt that their son deserved to go to a school suited to his talents. Many schools were open to taking him in, but one had specifically caught the eyes of his parents and himself. It was a scholarship to a prestige boarding highschool, close to the capital of the United Sates, as it was funded by the government. The program seemed amazing, offering many courses specific to advanced instrument playing, and it seemed the colleges almost always gave every child there a scholarship for even more opportunities. They couldn't turn it down, even though it seemed to great to be true. Damon took the plane and was enthusiastic as he waited to see his highschool. It seemed odd to him, how there were no windows in the building, but he wasn't going to be picky. Now he regrets that he decided to be tolerant, for he soon realized that this place would be his doom. As he walked down the main corridor he saw a red-haired girl with scales on her legs and arms. It was like a freak show circus. As quickly as he ran back to the main doors to exit this hell, the doctors were already there, knowing this was where every new "student" ran to upon their fist glance on a "classmate". His backpack and its contents were thrown away before his eyes, along with his violin. Tears ran down his cheeks, but they had already put him into a holding cell with thick glass doors. To add to the irony, the only chair there was a classroom desk/chair combo. Though those four years he was tortured, fake letters of joy sent to his parents, his world crumbled, and he lost all hope until the one day he refers to as "The Day". Damon was already into a routine, they examined him every morning, afternoon and evening. Once a month they would inject him with a shot of who knows what, increasing the mutations he already had. On this typical day, he heard a new classmate enter the building. Only one word caught his ears, "violin". This one word made him open his eyes again, wait for his evening examination, and then kill his doctor. He knew the emergency exits of the building well enough to escape. He killed two more doctors, or they called themselves, teachers, and poisoned four others. From that moment on he was on the run. He could never go back home, nor could he return to his previous life. Now he roams the streets in search of a violin and somebody to trust.




[Poem About him;]


Only the music mustering in my mind,
Keeps me alive,
Hoping, perhaps,
One day the strings will rearrange
To make the most harmonious sound.


The night calls my name,
Tells me I am not of the day,
And nobody will ever hear
The notes I play.


I wait in the shadows
Remembering the pain
The struggle
The sound of horror.
A sound that latches on
And never leaves,
Allowing no peace,
No melody nor tune
To take its everlasting place.







[Artwork featuring him;]


[Oh shoot! D: I forgot his scarf! //dies]




Other [[Things worth noting, something else you want to enter, etc. etc.]]:
Age; 17
Birthday; December 12th

//Done//

Click here to see the 23rd Lab adopts home page.

[Syla Delaney]

;3
I hope you guys like him!

[Nikki6Ashba]

0.0

so coool!!!!

[Syla Delaney]

;3 Wanna try out for him next week?

[Nikki6Ashba]

;3 Wanna try out for him next week?

Yes but how do I do that?

[Syla Delaney]

;3 Wanna try out for him next week?

Yes but how do I do that?

When this saturday comes, I'll have a form that you fill out, Also, if you follow the link there are more specific instructions on the front page, and the pet that is currently available.

[Nikki6Ashba]

;3 Wanna try out for him next week?

Yes but how do I do that?

When this saturday comes, I'll have a form that you fill out, Also, if you follow the link there are more specific instructions on the front page, and the pet that is currently available.

oh okay, and we have t wait until Saturday to post the form correct? Also with each one can you ONLY do a story, art, poem, ect... or do we pick which of those we want to do?

[Vespur]

.dropped. will look for another in time, thanks for design him, and good luck to everyone. will find another soon.

[Syla Delaney]

;3
That's the idea! A pet that suits each person. That's why I wanted to do something different each week.
Glad you guys like him!

[Evil Muffin Overlord]

Your Username: Piefairie-x
His Name: Derek/Chren
Why you want him/like him: He is an amazing adoptable. He was drawn very well, and I want to give him a good home. Plus, I like his personality.
His backstory: Once, I was called Derek. I was popular, I had friends, I had a life. But then, the white coats came. They tore me from my home, from everything. They sedated me and threw me in the back of their van. Even in my drug induced sleep, I heard what they talked about. Only whispers, really, but they made me sad, and angry. "He's perfect. We couldn't have found a better subject for the new experiment if we had tried." "But what about his family? Won't they wonder?" "No, we already have everything in place. They will forget all about the boy. Don't question our methods again, or you may be the new experiment!" "Yes, sir." So. My family is to forget me. I thought. I supposed it was for the better, but if I ever escaped, there would be no one to turn back to. After a few hours, the sedative began to wore off, and I tried to stand up, or at least get into a more cofortable position. One of the white coats must have heard, because they went to the back and injected me again, this time with a much more powerful sedative. I went unconcious again, this time with no memory of when I was asleep. When I woke again, I was in a room. A completely white room. There was machinery everywhere, and a few white coats. I was on what looked like an operating table. Seeing me awake, one came over to me. A woman. Smiling. But I knew it was forced, trying to make me feel welcome in a place with no life. "I see you're awake! Welcome to the 23rd lab, Subject 546! Here, we will be doing simple tests on you, that's all, just tests. Most of them are to see how well your body copes with certain chemicals and such, but the rest will be to see if we can improve you. Yes, you will be re-created! A new you. Now, some of this might hurt, so I'm going to sedate you again. Good luck!" Before I could do anything but blink, a needle was stuck in my arm. Black again. By the time this sedative wore off, I was in another room. It's whitened walls were a bit softer on my eyes. Not quite as glaring as the first room. This time, I was on an actual bed. There was a small window, and outside was a small field. Not that I could get out there. I stood up. I felt, heavier somehow, like a weight was pulling me from behind. I looked back to see what it was. "No. No! NO! You can't do this to me! Not this. Aything but this!" Because behind me, on my back, no, more part of my back, were spikes. I touched them, just to make sure they were real. They were. And they hurt. When I tried to assess the damage to my hand, I realized that was different too. I had claws. Real claws. Similar to the spikes on my back, but not quite because they were fingernails. I wished they weren't quite so big. I imagined them just a little bit smaller, and to my surprise, they did just that. They shrank. I wondered if I could do the same with the spikes on my back. It worked. Also, I had a tail. It was surprisingly light, and I could move it with little to no thought at all, much easier than the claws. So, I shrank the spikes and claws as much as I could, and decided to get more sleep. I didn't get much. More white coats came in. Injected me. Put me on a cart (It was the weak sedative again). Soon, I was back in the glaring white operating room. This time, they didn't sedate me. I had to feel the pain of them injecting chemical after chemical into my body. Finally, when I felt I could bear no more, they took me back to my room. I curled into a ball and slept. A few hours later, more white coats came. I was prepared. The moment they stepped in, I attacked, claws fully extended. I was prepared to kill. "Stop! We're not with them! We know how to get you out of here!" I paused, wondering if they were telling the truth. "Look. No sedatives, see?" Both of them shed the coats, revealing two teenage girls in jeans and t-shirts. "Come on, we don't have much time!" Said the one who appeared to be in charge. "Follow us, and don't get caught!" Warned the other. They both sped out of the room. I hesitated for a moment, then followed. Twist after turn after stairway after corridor. I didn't know where we were going, but the two girls did. After a considerable distance, they slowed down. "Who... who are you?" The leader smiled. "I'm Syla. And this is Blitz." Blitz waved at me. I settled for a nod. "Well, here we are!" "Well... Where is here?" Syla gestured at a grate. "We've tested this, and it should take you just outside a nearby town. Go!" I took off the grate and almost left, but I stopped and looked at them. "What's the matter? Go!" Blitz told me. "Wait. Thank you. I won't forget this!" They just smiled at me. Suddenly, there were footsteps. "Go!" "Wait, what will happen to you?!" "Don't worry about that! It will be much worse if you don't get out NOW!" After a panicked look at each of them, I stepped into the ventilation and began the long crawl to freedom. I could hear shouts from where I came from, but I never looked back. After several hours, I made it to the town. I was free! But, I was different. I realized that my name was no longer Derek. No, I had changed too much for that. So, I made a new name. I am... Chren!
Another Story about him [[Optional]]: Before I tell you anything, I'm just going to tell you it is not my fault that it happened. Just saying. Okay, well, this story begins several years after my escape from the 23rd lab. But, I still remember every moment like it happened yesterday... Sorry, getting off topic! This story takes place at a party. A birthday party. I'm still not exactly sure why I was invited, but everyone probably regrets that I was. Well, I showed up, like the invitation told me to. The house was nice, not too big, not too small, definitely the right size for the party they were hosting. I walked in, people smiled, said hey, and went back to... Well... I'm not sure what they were doing... What do people do at birthday parties? Even when I was Derek, I never really went to parties... Anyway, they weren't rude to me, but they weren't exactly 'friendly'. I went over to the food table. It seemed okay. I mean, that's all I ever really did at parties: eat food and talk. Since no one seemed inclined to talk to me, I grabbed a plate of pretzels and a soda. Then, I turned around and started eating. I didn't really pay attention to anything around me, which is probably why it happened. See, my tail has a habit of swishing around when I'm not really thinking about anything. The next thing I knew, there table was a wreck. The friendly bubble of chatter had stopped, and everyone was staring at me. I looked behind me, and I saw what I had done. I really was surprised. After all this time, I still haven't gotten used to the tail, not really. "I-I'll pick it up..." I muttered, and bent down to start cleaning up the mess. But, it's never that easy. It was a party of teenagers, and sometimes teenagers get angry. One guy started going at me, trying to punch me. He backed me against a wall. Then, he punched. Unfortunately for him, my reflexes were improved during the time I spent at the lab as well. Instead of punching me, he got the wall. There was a dent, and several pictures fell. "Freak!" He taunted. So, it went like that for a little while, him trying to attack, me dodging, things breaking. Finally, I was in range of the door. He was a few yards away, so I took my chances and ran to the door. I ran out into the night, escaping him. So, it wasn't really my fault. It was his! He was the one who started the fight, and all I did was avoid him. He actually destroyed the property. Still, you can imagine that was the last party I got invited to!
Other [[Things worth noting, something else you want to enter, etc. etc.]]:

He doen't have a bad singing voice, but his chosen instrument is the cello. (Can't you see him playing a cello? I can!)