<strong>Name:</strong>Mirran Kellos (http://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=42674)<br/><br/><strong>Background:</strong><br/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Hmvqx2TQ0ik/TFxqamUmFsI/AAAAAAAABOc/0Y6ET1Q00nc/s1600/anime_boy1.jpg)</div>Rain lashed down on the small form, crying within the bassinet. The sheets were slowly soaking through, the crying growing louder by the moment. Thin, wet, rain-slicked hair was strewn about the babe's head and his red cheeks were cold with the falling moisture almost miraculously appearing from the sky. If anyone had bothered to look at the moment he'd been left, they might have seen a strange figure dart away and disappear into moonless sky, its piercing light shrouded by dark, dank, and heavy clouds that poured rain upon the land.<br/><br/>A light turned on within the orphanage, and a surprised murmuring could be heard before the small cradle was picked up and hurried inside. Within it was warm and protected from the elements. It took some time, but eventually the babe grew quiet and fell to sleep, too tired from its attempts at attention to even beg for sustenance. And that was his first night at the place he would call home for almost the next two decades.<br/><br/>__________________________<br/><br/><br/>Life passed at the orphanage, but not quite as smoothly as it might have. Strange... things happened around the boy that had been left 'pon the doorstep, things that couldn't be explained. Heavy footsteps outside his room and in the attic above. Things were placed somewhere and later found somewhere the boy could never have reached. Strange lights could be seen in the distance, but only through a certain angle when looking out of the window to his room. To talk about the boy... there wasn't much. Insular and afraid of much of the outside world, he was teased mercilessly by the other children at the orphanage both for his looks and for the strange things that happened about him. At times a few were picked to go with parents, and even a time or two he was picked, people entranced by his looks and not heeding the strange looks and whispers that circled the gathering place where orphans were chosen. But time and again he came back to the orphanage accompanied by angry and frightened adults, the only souvenirs from the stay there black eyes, bruises and welts.<br/><br/>There were a few people who singled him out, either as friends or as rivals, but he never had a great connection with any of them. In the end, as he neared the age of majority, he made up his mind. He needed to find how he had become like this, why he had become like this. What was his fate? Was he to die as he was found and lived, alone? The thought scared him enough to push him out of his state of mind, and before he could change his mind he left the orphanage, leaving everyone behind, and stepped out into the larger world with questions that were few in numbers, but weighed heavily on his heart.