Alastair - My Form: Please don't post!

[Master of Nothing]

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Ｗｅｌｃｏｍｅ
Welcome to my form for Alastair Fleet's readoption!

* Tip: click the picture for some music!


- The video itself, along with the content, belongs to it's rightful owner(s); I own nothing!

Navigation
Back to the Readopt
First Post [you are here]
A Greeting
History
Relationships
Story 1 - "Black Sheep are Still Flock Members"
Story 2 - "Friendly Violence"
Extra Tidbits
Art
Closing Statements

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[Master of Nothing]

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In the mansion of the wealthy Mrs. Lagunov, a large party of family and friends were gathered. In one of the many living rooms, Alastair chatted with a group of thirty or so people, who had all come to hear his stories. They seemed quite impressed with what he had to say. He was recounting events from his past, explaining who he was and where he came from. Normally, Alastair would've found this kind of speech non-nonsensical and dangerous- how is he to trust someone he just met? However, these people all knew his best friend, Moscow, very well, and so perhaps it was okay to avoid small talk and get down to business. Rozovyy found Alastair amongst the crowd in the giant maze of rooms and touched his shoulder to get his attention. "That's silk, dear friend, be careful." Alastair teased, winking at the attention he'd accumulated. Though it was a joke, he gave his suit a tug to straighten the fabric, anyway. He turned to look his dearest friend in the eyes.
"Doing well, I see. You're such a card!" Rozovyy joked. He nodded courtly to the people in the room, demonstrating his own flirtatiousness. "My Lord, have you even introduced yourself?"
"Oh, well not formally! Perhaps I should do so..." Alastair patted his pal on the back for the reminder.

Full Name ⇥ "The full name is Alastair Ruslan Fleet, but I only go by Alastair or Mr.Fleet."
Gender ⇥"I am biologically male and identify as such."
Orientation ⇥ "I'm demi-heteroromantic heteroflexible; I'm romantically attracted to females, but may fall for a guy if he's the right one. Currently though, I'm not interested in any of it."
Age ⇥ "Technically, I'm thirty-nine years old, though I like to think that my looks are younger and my mind is older."
Ethnicity ⇥ "One half English on my father's side, one half Ukrainian on my mum's side."

Personality

Positive
⋯ Protective
⋯ Humble
⋯ Passionate
⋯ Polite
⋯ Comforting
⋯ Childish
⋯ Imaginative
⋯ Relatable
⋯ Respectable
⋯ Productive

Negative
┅ Fragile
┅ Stubborn
┅ Blunt
┅ Egocentric
┅ Disorganized
┅ Forgetful
┅ Passive-Agressive
┅ Distrusting
┅ Cocky
┅ Naive

Appearance
Alastair is a tall, lean European man. He has stunning blue eyes the color of a thirsty ocean, and gleaming crooked teeth that, although not perfect, blatantly represent wealth. His hair is straight near the part, but bends out into neat curls to line his face like a lion's mane. His hair is short and modest, usually covered by one of his most prized hats. He sports a mustache and goatee that would look far more at home in a silent movie than in the modern world, and his eyebrows are carved just so that they create neat parabolas, giving the appearance that Alastair is constantly either dapper or concerned. His attire is just as modern as his facial hair, consisting mostly of fancy suits and custom leather shoes. He takes a lot of care into his looks. Though he couldn't care less if any given individual found him to be attractive, he finds it necessary to dress like the millionaire he is. Alastair's voice is equally as lavish, providing a sweet melody of thick, tenor-pitched chocolate sounds that turn any head and beckon any listener to beg for just one more taste of his words. If Alastair isn't found to be charming by first impression, it is highly unlikely that he will be much to brag about when you learn more about him, either.

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[Master of Nothing]

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"Now that that's through," Alastair put an arm around Rozovyy's shoulder to show his friendly affections. "I was just telling all of these lovely people about my history. Want to sit through to hear it?"
Rozovyy's eyes lit up. "You're willing to tell these complete strangers your story?!? I'm certain I haven't even heard the half of it!"
Alastair shrugged. "They were interested. I couldn't well refuse them, especially after I promised myself I'd get over myself and move on. Right guys?" There was some polite mumbling across the room in agreement to Alastair's comment.
Rozovyy raised an eyebrow. "Okay, if you're sure..."

Alastair was born in London, England, into a wealthy family. His mother was kind, but she was too fragile and cowardly to stand up to her brutal husband. That man had been deemed the meanest person in London from adulthood. He verbally abused his two sons, Alastair and Ezra, constantly. Of course, it upset the two greatly, but whenever one of the two would protest against it, their father would progressively make things worse. Alastair was always intimidated by his father, expected to be just like him when he grew up. Alastair did not know, however, how to act like his dad and did not wish to, either.
Even though Alastair is a year older, Ezra was the first to leave the house because he always knew what he wanted to do, and Alastair had no idea where he was going. It was a long fight between Alastair and his dad to allow Ezra to leave, and the fights that went on in the house afterwards only made life worse for him, since his father had lost one half of his victims. Alastair still owes it up to his best friend, Moscow, for being the only one that kept him sane and happy throughout his younger years.
Alastair's mother grew suddenly ill just two years after Ezra left, and because she was a stubborn woman she refused professional help. Therefore, her son was her only doctor. He worked day and night to try to revive her, but having had little medical experience and no proper supplies, his poor mother eventually scummed to the illness. A short time after her death, Alastair's father arranged a marriage between Alastair and Moscow, because as far as he was concerned, Alastair was a complete failure and embarrassment to the household and a betrothal was the solution.
It was about then when Alastair ran away. He ran, he ran, and he ran, sometimes getting help from Moscow, sometimes fending for himself. He lived with her for a while, but when he inherited his father's money after his father was assassinated, he sold his old house in England and purchased land in St Petersburg, Russia. He still lives there now, with his half-sister, her family, and his adopted daughter and his money.

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[Master of Nothing]

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(Of the point of view when Pomme and Foster were still babes .v.)

Alastair bit his lip and sighed after recounting his past. "O-okay, um... But enough about me!" He hugged Rozovyy tightly with one arm, causing him wheeze. "How about we focus on my comrades?"

"Let's start with comrade Rozovyy, since he's here! Though my relationship with him is strictly platonic, he's the closest thing I have to a lover. I love being around him, because who wouldn't? He's sort of my partner-in-crime figure; someone to work together with, push around, and respect all at once. We love roughhousing and fighting with each other, like the idiotic children we are at heart. I hang around him whenever I wish to feel extra lively and free. He reminds me how good it is to be myself, as he allows me to be whoever I wish around him, but at the same time I'm still awfully jealous of him."

Alastair gave Rozovyy a smile and a wink before hopping on the banister and sliding down to the next floor. His audience gasped and rushed their best to follow him, in sort of a herd. "Ah, there she is!" At the end of the banister, Alastair picked up a glass of sparkling grape juice and poured it into Moscow's empty wine glass.
"Alastair!" Moscow exclaimed, turning to meet her best friend. "I should've expected you'd be the life of the party here! What in the world are you up to?"

"Ah, Misses Moscow Lagunov. You all know her, this being her party and all, but I bet you don't know that we've known each other since we were four! She's my best friend, and has gotten me through the very worst in life. I wouldn't trust anyone but her with my deepest and darkest secrets, and goodness does she listen to me! What a dear, she is like a sister to me."

Alastair kissed Moscow on the hand. "Oh, you," she said, used to Alastair's passion for flattery. She took a sip of her drink, and then promptly spit it out, wrinkling her nose. "My my, Alastair and all his tricks! I should've expected you'd switch the wine with something else! Run off, now!" she joked.
Alastair bowed. "As you request, Madam. Really, I'm just lucky Kenny isn't here right now, imagine his glee missing an evening with me for work!"

[img]-Kenny's-ref-thing[/img]

"Oh, Kenny. I'm one hundred and ten percent certain that I like him more than he likes me. It's a more solid claim than gravity on earth! That's all right though, I get it. Being my flirty old self, he has issues with me getting close with Moscow, though he's well aware we don't like each other. Fine young man, he is... If only he would give up on the jokes! He's got Moscow and Rozovyy on this ridiculous joke that he's a thief! Ha, hardly! Leave that man alone with my opened safe and he wouldn't touch a penny, I promise you! How crazy..."

Moscow narrowed her eyes. "He really is a thief, Alastair, if you could wrap your head around that complex concept..."
There was no time to argue, because a small girl tugged on Alastair's pant leg. "Daddy!" she squealed. "I've been looking for you, where have you been?"
"Here." Alastair picked the girl up and put her on his shoulder as easy as one could distinguish apples from oranges, as if Alastair was her throne and he wholeheartedly embraced the job.

"This is my daughter, Taiga. Though she is not of my blood, I love her as my own. Moscow, Rozovyy and I found her on a walk, all alone, and I knew immediately I wanted to take care of her. On most days, she is my only companion, and I am perfectly fine with that. Though I'll admit she's a trouble-maker, that just makes her more fun to hang out with."

Alastair set Taiga down once he was done with the introduction. She stuck out her tongue at her father. "Yeah right, I'm a trouble-maker. You're so innocent that you just ask for the trouble!" she teased, poking Alastair's leg.
Alastair grinned. "Yes, I suppose so, dear." he cooed. He looked up and found his half-sister, Araceli, who was accompanied by her two children. "And to conclude my list of close comrades," he called out to his listeners, "My sister and her children, Pomme and Foster!"

"I love Araceli to death, but she takes some... getting used to. She's a high-maintenance type, but once you start to understand her, she's really not that bad. I've learned so much about her in the time she's lived with me, and have bonded with her so much as well. She really is a dear, she just doesn't show it too much."

"Ah, the girl that's full of surprises! Pomme always brings something new to the table, never ceasing to amaze me and keep me in good spirits. I love seeing her grow as a person, and she's so enjoyable to be with. She reminds me how awful loneliness is, since being in her company can never bring you down."

"Last but certainly not least, we have Foster! He's such a sweet little thing, with a mind bigger than I fear mine will ever be. It's just so fascinating to watch his progress, to listen to his train of thought. He still has trouble warming up to me sometimes, and I can't blame him for that, but when he does feel like talking to me, boy, can he talk! It's not so much the quantity of his speech as the quality. What a genius he is! I could only hope for a mind like his. He's such a wonderful little thing!"

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[Master of Nothing]

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Moscow walked over to Alastair after discarding the grape juice. "All right you guys, if this is all about Alastair, who wants to hear a story?"
Alastair scoffed. "What? You don't have any good stories about me!"
"Ha!" Moscow mocked her friend. "How about the one about how your hero, Moscow Lagunov, saved you from your sad pit of sadness and hatred?" She bowed humbly and looked up at Alastair with a smile.

It started long ago... like most stories. Alastair was but twenty years old, still back in England with his parents. Ezra had already left for America, and so Alastair was left to tend to his ill mother and his bully of a father. On this particular day, Moscow had decided to go visit her friend, but he was not at the house. His father told her to go away but would not tell her anything of Alastair's whereabouts. After searching their yard, she found Alastair lying in the gazebo. "What's happening?" Moscow had asked calmly, taking a seat.
"What is ever happening?" he repeated. "Of course, I'm in bad spirits yet again, thanks to good ol' father."
"Oh, what now, Alastair?"
Alastair did not want to speak. He couldn't shut up the voice in his head- the voice that sounded so much like his dad, and yet it was more demonic- more mocking. Baa baa black sheep! Can't you offer anything, you useless twit? the voice cackled... Alastair could see the shadows hiding in his mind; the sharp teeth that taunted but never bit. You'll always be the black sheep! No one wants you! Alastair exhaled, deep and shaky. He closed his eyes, squeezing out tears. He was embarrassed for his friend to see him like this, so he shook his head.
"Don't want to talk to me, eh? It must be pretty bad..." she looked off to the side, eyes sad.
The two sat there for who knows how long, but Moscow didn't mind and Alastair didn't feel like doing anything else. His heart was warmer with Moscow around. Finally, he said "He's using those words again, 'black sheep'. He means to say I'm a disgrace. I would've ran away a long time ago if it weren't for mom. I can't take it... I can't! He's driving me insane! What can I do?"
Moscow sighed, patting Alastair on his back. "You want to know what I think you should do?" she asked.
"Yes!" Alastair stretched out his arms, gathering the strength to try to be funny.
"Stay with your mommy." Moscow stood up and started to leave.
Alastair paused and then blinked. "What!? That's your amazing advice?"
Moscow stood still and glared over her shoulder. "It is right thing to do. You'll thank me later."
Alastair growled, boiling from anger that originated from his father and traveled to his current conversation with Moscow. "Are you kidding me!?!" In all of his blind rage, he raised a hand to strike Moscow, but she was too fast. She gripped his wrist and knocked him off balance by shoving his arm in just the right way, causing him to fall flat on his back. Alastair writhed in pain, and Moscow lost all hope of trying to be serious and cracked a smile.
"What?" Alastair spat.
"You're such a bad fighter."
Alastair rolled his eyes, sitting up slightly.
"But a good friend, a loyal man... And if your father complains about your lack of business, lets talk about your hats."
Alastair snickered as he was sat up properly by his friend. "The gray one with the ribbon? No one would buy that!"
Moscow laughed heartily. The two had tried to sell the hand-made hat together, but it was instead taken by a neighboring goose desperate for a place to lay her eggs. "That would be the one!"
The two paused to grin at each other, locking eyes for a few long seconds. In those few moments, Alastair was able to catch something he hadn't seen in someone in a long time. True friendship. It was the look of hope, of trust, of courage. He saw no pity, no hatred, only a wet shade of light that radiated vitality. An odd feeling filled his chest, like his heart had burst and was replaced with a numbing warmth. Moscow was no love interest of his, but he loved her so deeply as his most reliable companion, he knew that she had dragged him straight from hell and into somewhere far more comfortable.

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[Master of Nothing]

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Alastair blushed. "I knew you were going to tell that one, you had to... dang." he rubbed the back of his head shyly with one of his paws.
Rozovyy snorted. "Yeah, that was nice of you or whatever." he teased. "What about we hear something more fun?"

Alastair and Rozovyy twirled around in a circle, hands gripped firmly.
Moscow sat on the bench and looked up at the two boredly. She sat in the shade of a large oak tree, now covered with snow. The sky was foggy and dark, and so was the ground, for that matter. Couldn't they just go inside? It was so cold! "What's the point of this again?"
"You mean the point of a fight? Everything!" Alastair announced, slipping on the ice just after he'd finished his sentence. He fell to the ground and slid clockwise for about seven feet.
"Yeah!" Rozovyy cheered, dizzily stumbling to Alastair and picking him up by his shirt collar. "It's all in good spirits!" He attempted to slug Alastair in the face, but his eyes were still lazy from the constant motion and he missed by a few inches. He grunted and released his grip on Alastair, who shoved his body full-force into Rozovyy's side. He stumbled a little bit, and then remembered his strength. He put a hand on Alastair's head and chuckled as he tried to move forward, throwing empty punches this way and that.
"Just hurry up, will you? Our tea should be prepared by now, shouldn't it, Rozovyy?"
"Yes ma'am!" Rozovyy saluted.
"A quick fight it is!" agreed Alastair.
Rozovyy slipped a foot under Alastair's leg, knocking him off balance. At the last second, Rozovyy picked him up and launched himself towards the river. Just as he was about to fall into it, he threw Alastair forwards and ran away.
Alastair hit the ice with a loud crack as he broke through the one-inch layer of ice on impact. Soaked in freezing water, he resurfaced and spit out the water that had seeped into his mouth, instead creating icicles that froze in midair. He grinned toothily.
Moscow was aghast with her friends' stupidity. "And so I save you from hypothermia for the fifth time..." Agitated, she grabbed Alastair's arm and dragged both her butler and the freezing boy inside.

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[Master of Nothing]

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Moscow giggled as Rozovyy finished the story and looked at her clock. "Oh dear, it's almost dinner time! Perhaps you should rap up your party and let me have mine?" she suggested, motioning to the kitchen.
"Oh, yes!" Rozovyy bowed shortly to Moscow and headed to the kitchen to retrieve the meal.
Moscow raised an eyebrow at Alastair.
"I'm almost done..." Alastair insisted. "But now that we're well acquainted, I figure these good people should get the pleasure of learning a little more about me."

Favorite Passtimes

Dancing What a lovely art dancing is! I only do ballroom though, so don't try to drag me into something like ballet or tap. This is what I do in the majority of my free time. I take dancing very seriously, and find it to be a calming and romantic form of expression. I thoroughly hope others enjoy it as much as I... Usually, my dance partner is Moscow or Taiga, but I like to threaten Rozovyy into dancing with me, too. I like to think of myself as good at ballroom dancing. I'm a self-taught dancer, but I've done it since my childhood and I'm proud of that.

Viola Viola... Could you think of a finer instrument? Just in between soprano and bass pitches, the viola produces a sweet but bitter sound that I find quite pleasant to the ear. As with dancing, I've been playing viola since my earliest memories. However, of course I've grown better at it! I now have a viola of the quality of a Stradivarius violin. If I need explain, Stradivarius is thought to be the finest violin maker ever to exist. His violins sound legendary, and they've stood the test of time throughout many centuries. Hence - not to brag - my viola is the best out there.

Biking And how else would you travel? Being close to the city, it's not a bother to me to bike everywhere. I don't even own a car! It's faster than walking, but develops your muscles more, and is slower than a car so you can stop and smell the roses on your way to a bakery or tailor. Joy!

Likes and Dislikes

✓ hats
✓ nobility
✓ manners
✓ children
✓ sparkling juice
✓ wine
✓ potatoes
✓ classic literature
✓ rain
✓ coffee
✓ flowers

✗ politics
✗ video games
✗ mockery
✗ modern music
✗ grapefruit
✗ cashews
✗ anything to do with his dad
✗ cars
✗ elevators (terrifying *-*)
✗ ghosts

My Occupation

Hat making! And dad said I was useless! Perhaps I am in this day and age, with the decline in hat fashion and the rise of piece-of-fabric-on-your-head fashion, but after all, a man must chase his passion! (Nothing against modern hats, they just look like trash is all). My hats are purely hand crafted, from sheering sheep's wool to the feather stuck in the brim. Being high-end hats, they're not cheap, but if you're looking for something to give a loved one on the holidays, these hats will last them through many winters to come! Heck, I've grown madly attached to my favorite woolen fedora, myself!

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[Master of Nothing]

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by me (Forever United.) ➀ ➁ ➂ ➃
by Firedragon2009 ➀
by Boopy ➀
by Toxic Nightshade ➀

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[Master of Nothing]

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Alastair exhaled and nodded, exchanging a smile with his audience. "Well, I suppose that's enough chat for now. Let's go have dinner, shall we? The night's only just begun! And if you're leaving now, as I know some of you are... It's been an honor to meet you all! Прощай!"

Thank you for reading my form! It was a true joy to write, and I really hope it was a joy to read! With that, if nothing else, I hope you've learned a bit about the character I've created! I hope you have a good day/night/holiday!

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