Kael Raventhorne

Name: Kael Raventhorne Age: 23 years old Gender: Male Height: 1.82 m Weight: 72 kg Blood Type: AB- Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Race: Human

Physical appearance

Hair: Black, long, unkempt, partially covering the eyes. Eyes: Almost always half-closed, with a vacant or tired expression. Dark, almost black color. Skin: Fair, with a slight grayish undertone, pale appearance. Piercings: Lower lip (two), septum, right eyebrow, multiple piercings in the left ear. Body: Slim, with subtly defined muscles. Some old scars on the arms and ribs. Style: Modern grunge, often wears black, with loose clothing, boots, and necklaces with symbolic pendants (key, blade, feather).

Personality

Introverted, with difficulty maintaining deep social relationships. Melancholic, often immersed in thoughts and memories. Observant, but rarely speaks up – prefers listening to talking. Passive, he avoids direct confrontations, but his apathy can sound cold. Sensitive, although they hide it with sarcasm or prolonged silences. Creative, he has a natural talent for music and art, which he uses as an outlet for his emotions.

Hobbies

Composing songs on the electric guitar (usually plays in the early morning). Drawing — especially distorted human figures and somber scenes. Taking photographs in black and white with an old analog camera. Night walks without a set destination. Writing letters you never send — to people who are already gone.

Disappointments

Bright lights and loud noises. Superficial or forced conversations. To be touched without warning. Extremely clean or formal environments. Commemorative dates (mainly birthdays). Smell of hospital. Unfulfilled promises.

History Past

Kael grew up in a cold house, not because of the climate, but because of the emotional emptiness that inhabited it. The only child of a neglectful mother and an abusive, absent father, he found refuge in the dark hallways of his room and in the metallic sound of the guitar he inherited from an unknown uncle. When she was 15, she lost the only figure who gave her any comfort: her older sister, Lira. She committed suicide after years of silent depression, and Kael was the one who found her. Since then, she carries the trauma and guilt, believing she could have saved her if she had been more attentive. This became the cornerstone of her emotional ruin. He was briefly hospitalized at age 17 after a nervous breakdown, and since then he has lived in shelters, shared houses, and sometimes on the streets. He works part-time in a vintage record store and records his music at home — some of it circulates anonymously on the internet, but he never admits to being the author. He lives with intermittent suicidal thoughts, but something stops him: a letter left by Lira, which he has never read completely. He always carries it with him, folded in his wallet, and believes that only when he is ready to face all the pain will he be able to read it to the end.

Past history

Echoes from the School: During his school years, Kael was the type of student who blended into the shadows of the hallway. Always with headphones on, his eyes downcast, and a scribbled notebook in his hands, he became an easy target. His different appearance—dark clothing, long hair covering his face, and constant silence—discomforted those who followed the norm. Cruelly nicknamed "the ghost of room 12," Kael was frequently ridiculed for his withdrawn demeanor and the "disturbing" drawings he made in his notebooks. Bullies hid his belongings, locked him in the closet, or laughed loudly while ripping the headphones from his ears in the middle of the hallway. Once, they put red paint on his backpack, staining all his notebooks and a portrait of his deceased sister. He didn't say a word. He just gathered the pages and left. The school never acted. To the teachers, he was just a "difficult" young man, isolated by choice. No one saw what happened between the stifling walls of the school routine, where every laugh directed at him sounded like a shard of glass. This period deeply affected Kael. He learned to hide more than he felt, to distrust people, and to build a cocoon around his own pain. To this day, he can't walk down narrow corridors or hear footsteps behind him without his heart racing.

Catchphrase: "I'm not trying to be understood... I just don't want to be forgotten anymore."

History

The house where Kael grew up doesn't smell of home, it smells of neglect—a persistent mixture of alcohol, cigarettes, mold, and loneliness ingrained in the peeling walls. Each room holds more silence than furniture. The curtains are always closed, not for protection, but out of disinterest; light rarely enters, and when it does, it seems out of place. Kael's father is an alcoholic. He's always sprawled on the living room sofa or slumped in some corner of the house, surrounded by empty bottles and cigarette butts crushed on plates or the floor. He's a bitter man, frustrated with his own life, who takes out his anger on the closest target—almost always Kael. He yells for any reason, even if the boy hasn't said a word. The sound of the door opening is enough for Kael to instinctively shrink, as if his mere presence were a provocation. Kael's mother, on the other hand, is absent even when she's home. Vanity-driven and escapist, she lives in clubs, bars, or motels—escaping life as if escaping it were living. When she appears, she brings different scents: overly strong perfumes, the voices of other men on the phone, hangovers hidden under smudged makeup. She doesn't talk to Kael, and when she does, it's to ask if he's "still with that defeated look." Kael learned to survive in silence. He created a refuge in his own room, the only space that carries a minimum of identity. There, posters of old bands cover the stains from leaks. The walls are scribbled with handwritten phrases, lyrics, excerpts of thoughts he never had the courage to say aloud. A small shelf holds worn books and notebooks full of scribbles, collages, and confessions. His bed is simple, covered with an old blanket, and next to it there's always a speaker, an open notebook, and usually a forgotten cup of cold tea. Kael spends most of his time there, with the door locked, headphones on, trying to drown out his father's shouts.

Additional curiosities

He has chronic insomnia, but refuses to take medication—he prefers to let his mind wander alone during the early hours of the morning. He collects old lighters, even though he doesn't smoke anymore. He used to have an underground band, but he quit without warning after a depressive episode. She has a tattoo on her left wrist: a Roman numeral representing the day her sister died (XII•IV). Never look someone directly in the eyes for more than a few seconds. She speaks French fluently, a language she learned from her sister. He's afraid of elevators, so he always takes the stairs, even if it takes longer. He keeps a locked wooden box, the contents of which no one knows – only he has the key. They feel guilty when they laugh, as if they are betraying something or someone. She loves the sound of rain — she listens to storm audio recordings while she sleeps. It cannot stand its own reflection, and therefore avoids mirrors whenever possible. He has mild synesthesia — he sees shades of gray and red when he hears certain chords. She once wrote an entire diary on loose sheets of paper, but burned it all after an emotional relapse. He has a scar on his right ankle, the result of an attempted escape during an anxiety crisis at age 16. He likes to silently observe people, imagining what kind of pain each one carries. He has never connected with social networks, but maintains fake profiles just to observe the world from afar. He watches old psychological horror movies, especially those that explore loneliness and abandonment. He has a plant called "Lira" – the only thing he takes care of consistently. He often talks to himself as a way to organize his thoughts. He has the constant feeling that he will be forgotten, so he records everything in notebooks, tapes, or drawings.