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Tarquin Alkaev

The Diamond. "We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell."

0 · 189 views · located in Dystopia

a character in “MANiKiN: the new world”, as played by Lukipyon


if i never returned?
❚You don’t understand... NO-ONE FUCKING UNDERSTANDS! ❚
the mask of light, under my face
my lips are sealed.
see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.


Physical appearance:
Tarquin could be described as tall at about 5”9. He has a very lean and muscular body, hardened after years of hunting. He has light silver hair that is often ruffled and flung to one side, as if he woke up with it as that; luckily it looks good on him. He has eyes a similar colour, a grey so light it would seem at a glance that his irises were invisible, this makes his stares ever more piercing. His eyes are narrow and slanted when calm; if looked at casually you would think that he was examining just how inferior you are compared to him. But then this cool side cracks, and his eyes widen into blinding madness while his mouth shapes into a dark grin. He has extremely sharp canines compared to most average humans, it’s not hard to miss whenever he laughs. His nose is rather slender, he has clean eyebrows –god knows how he maintains being so well-groomed – and his lips are mildly plump.

Clothing and accessories:
Tarquin was often called a bloodhound in his life before the plague; he licks his lip at such a title. One that embodied his personality to a point. To emphasize this he tends to wear quite a lot of furs: fur coats, hats, scarves and cloaks. He avoids bright colours and instead hugs monotones such as grey and black. Weather was brutal in Britain so it was only sensible to do so. He doesn’t wear them all that often nowadays, so whenever he doesn’t he prefers to wear slouched jeans that aren’t so tight but don’t fall off at one step; tight shirts and vests that outline his lean but muscular body. His taste in shoes are rather modest, he favors Vans that are comfortable, light and quick to slip in. He’s grown dependent on them. Otherwise, he wears branded sneakers with thick soles... Such as Supras. Tarquin has also adopted a habitat to wearing one black glove or bracelet during missions. He also has several ear rings that all line up in a row on his right ear around the outside.

Tarquin can be categorized as cruel, aggressive, manipulative, and have demeaning behavior directed towards others. He likes to humiliate or demean people in the presence of others. He is amused by, or takes pleasure in, the psychological or physical suffering of others (including animals). Sometimes, he lies solely for the purpose of harming or inflicting pain on others. He rarely does it since he enjoys doing jobs on his own, but he has the ability to get other people to do what they want by frightening them through intimidation or even terror. Tarquin enjoys meddling with a person’s emotions, he doesn’t care for no-one else but him (or maybe a tiny bit for his group members), so he likes to play games with his victims; screaming in their ear to say illicit phrases before he plunges a knife into their throat. He has an obsession with showing his serpentine tongue and uses any suitable moment to do so. He feels no pity to his opponent and instead howls hysterically once their blood has time to soak into the earth. The only time he seems calm is when he talks to himself or inanimate objects inside his bedroom, no-one knows what he talks about but I doubt anyone would want to know. He often has mood swings; he can get vexed over little things and constantly threatens the risk of actually killing the person. Only members of the CARDS have the matters to control him. He finds absurd things funny that most wouldn’t; the obvious being death, killing, torture and the sort. This drags him into rounds of loud cackling which doesn’t stop until about half an hour later. He also tends to be rather paranoid and jumps to conclusions about other people, most of the time he believes that people talk about him.


- Bloodbaths
- Torturing his victims
- Playing sadistic games
- His blade dripped in blood
- Himself
- The lifeless eyes of the dead
- His own possessions
- Killing, well, everything

- A day without one kill
- People teasing him
- When people converse about him
- Crowds

- Thinking up more methods of playing with his victims before he kills them
- Murdering. Killing. Torturing. Any aspect you want to call it.
- Contemplating. Alone or with his bedside lamp
- Cleaning his blade

- Death threats and obnoxious mockery just arouses him more
- He prefers melee because he lacks accuracy with a gun unless it’s point blank
- Terrible social skills
- Tends to fight on a whim, he sometimes stops thinking tactically when desire overwhelms him

- Being vunerable or being caught off-guard
- Being haunted by all the souls he has murdered
- Complete loneliness, other voices lull him into a sense of safety

Other quirks: Referring back to this bloodhound title, he tries to hint this quite a lot by acting like a bloodhound during battle e.g. Moving on all fours, showing his canines excessively and growling when he's irritated.

Tarquin was an only child, he had a Russian father but a British mother; however he was brought up by hs mother, his father was a engineer working for the Russian army; he seldom came home. Tarquin’s mother described it as his “knawing thirst for ambition.” The young boy came to realise that this meant his father cared more for his work than his family and loved ones. One day, he never came back. Tarquin would wait in vain at the doorstep but his mother seemed to have given up on her husband a long time ago. Mr. Alkaev’s presence, or loss of, held no authority in the household anymore. Soon the small family began to ride back in sync with their normal lifestyle and the father he never knew turned into a faded but unwanted memory. Like a grainy photo of you at an ugly angle. At a young age, being raised by his mother and whatnot, was persuaded to take up extra-curricular activities which the cruel society would observe the least bit feminine. He was taunted and mocked at during school by boys his age or older. they would bully him about his sewing or his excellent ability in the piano. He had very few friends then, but it didn’t matter. He only cared for his mother’s opinion; she had very little to impress her as he grew up and she would praise him with genuine delight when Tarquin performed a musical piece flawlessly. His mother took great pride in her son’s skills, which Tarquin grew to believe and no amount of harsh teasing could waver that. But on the start of a seemingly normal week, Tarquin just snapped. It started with this one guy who annoyed him about his unnatural hair colour and similar coloured eyes, this is what Tarquin could tolerate. However, afterwards the guy then had the audacity trash-talking his mother. Without thinking twice, he slammed the boy onto the hard concrete playground of the floor and choked him to his death, shrieking in demonic laughter. After that it just started to take a shape, this thirst for blood just grew and grew until bright scarlet would seep into his field of vision and his palms were stained with blood that could never be washed off. It filled his thoughts and actions; he mulled it over as sweet vengeance for all the teasing he had had to accept at an early stage and to erase the recollection of the father that had never wanted him.
Tarquin was content with his life during the infection, in fact, it made him happier. The world seemed to be in a state of anarchy, the government collapsed and hell broke loose. It was in a terrible state at first, a distressful hubbub as pitiful humans ran around fending off death or the sane ones who hid in fear. But then the vast majority of the population changed and it wasn't as hectic any more. Tarquin was released from prison just a few days before the epidemic broke out. He couldn't wait to taste blood again and no-one could stop him. Tarquin spent his days by killing as many manikins as he liked. There weren't enough humans remaining to see him and if they did they wouldn't complain. He eventually wandered into Utopia, leaving a trail of carnage in his wake. Members of CARDS discovered him in a pool of changeling blood and body parts, doll and human alike, while muttering quietly to his bloody blade. The offered him a place in the group, predicting he may become a valuable asset.
Oh, you ask about the previous Diamond?
It only took one slit across the neck.

He loves the feel of metal and prefers using knives, swords or daggers over guns unless push comes to shove. Tarquin has a supply of small throwing knives packed into his pocket, a two-handed blade slung over his shoulder onto his back and a Glock 19 handgun strapped onto the inside of his right calf. Because of his preference of the knife, he doesn’t pack all that much ammunition; he eithers stuffs it alongside his throwing knives or makes do with one clip that has already been loaded into the barrel.

Tarquin has a fighting style similar to a rogue. . Being light on his feet, he has the ability to silently creep close to his opponent which should surprise them into temporary immobility. He uses this split second to chop their head off before they get to squeak out a plea. And this is if you’re lucky, when he can he saviours the chance of messing with his victim as they slowly die; killing and cutting them in grotesque ways only the group could endure looking at. He just hates it when victims still believe in dying in dignity by suicide, I mean, where’s the fun in that?

His reputation and psychotic behaviour damages heavily on his social status, and he’s fine with that. He doesn’t have that much to talk about anyway and he prefers to be by himself. He is the type of person who can silence a rowdy crowd once he enters the room. However, when madness seeps once again into his being he prefers annoying other people in the room; he loves to make people awkward. Tarquin isn’t the type of person who cares for gossip and solely relies on what he sees and hears. And even then he couldn’t care less because only thoughts of crude torture fill his cranium. He looks at his group members as what they are, that doesn’t mean he likes to talk to them still.

Korn – Narcissistic Cannibal (ft. Skrillex & Kill the Noise)

So begins...

Tarquin Alkaev's Story