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 Johnathan Wilbert Taylor [Sacrifice]

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Join date : 2011-07-20

PostSubject: Johnathan Wilbert Taylor [Sacrifice]   Sat Jan 05, 2013 12:25 am


Full Name: Jonathan Wilbert Taylor
Nickname: Taylor-sensei
True Name: Desolate
Partner's Name: Montague-sensei
Gender: Male
Marital Status: Single
Age: 72
Birth Date: August 18, 1939
Occupation/Grade: History Instructor at Seven Moons
Dreams/Life Goals: Survive having Romano as my Fighter.

Hair: white
Eyes: olive
Height: 5'9
Build: old, withered, and wrinkled
Name location: horizontal along my ribs, near the base in the front


Oddly enough, his personality seems to belie his Name. He is energetic, happy, passionate, and always into something. He thinks of Romano as both his son and his Fighter, as well as secretly admiring his musical ability. He is the only person who does not have to defend against the emotions caused when Romano plays his Requiem (which can be played by others without the devastating side-effects), seeing as how the melody is linked to their Name. He likes to brighten the moods of those he comes across, perhaps to leave a good memory when he's gone.


It was nearly seventy-three years ago now that I was born. Back then, the school was hard to get to, harder to find. We didn't have any of this "emo" or "punk" or any of that other bullshit; no times were much simpler on everyone. Anywho, I was born and I had three older brothers and two older sisters; Liliana was born a year after me, so my folks had seven of us in all, and let me tell you: we were a handful. I don't remember getting into that much trouble, but what kid does? I know I wasn't a sweetheart or angel, but I wasn't too much of a troublemaker. As long as I can remember, I've liked to just sit back and listen to a piano or harp - any instrument really - being played; it soothed me, and it was something my father was more than willing to share with me. The other kids couldn't stand it, so it was our special time.

As I was saying about the school - what was I saying anywho? Oh, right! We didn't have a choice of schools like they do now, but we learned what we were supposed to. I don't remember much of growing up, but I learned later that it was the end of a depression and the start - and end - of a war, World War II they call it now. Apparently it was a bigger deal than I could grasp at such a tender age.

Fast forward a few years, and I was in school, learning all I should. I don't remember it all now, but who can blame me? I got out of school and worked in a factory to pay for higher education. I wanted to be a teacher; it didn't really matter to me about the pay or anything. I just wanted to share my knowledge with others. It was hard, and I don't think I slept more than a half hour at a time, but those sort of things don't hurt you as much when you're young, and boy was I young!

Then there I was with my shiny new degree, ready to teach, but there were no openings. The funny thing is, I applied to one last school; I'd never heard of it, and it was pretty far away, but they snapped me up. I don't remember exactly what it's official name was, but it was called Seven Moons when it was discussed. Something was really off about the place, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I was mostly happy there, since I could now do what I'd been wanting and all.

I was so far away now, though, that I only saw my family on rare occassions. One such time, Liliana had convinced us to all go to one of her "rock concerts" as an effort to bond again. I was in my early thirties, no more than thiry-three, and it was lonely without the family near, so I agreed. Two of my brothers had died in the war when I was little, and a pox had come through years later to take the other brother and my older sisters; it nearly took Mother, Father, and Liliana, but they got the cure in time. So it was just the four of us now, and we missed each other terribly.

We should have never gone. We should have never thought about going. Liliana, my precious sister, was stabbed by some bloke in the crowd, and Father had a heart attck from the worry while we were in the hospital. It always seemed more than a little ironic to me that Father survived so much in his life and was brought down by an allergy. See, he was allergic to one of the medicines they pumped into him after his heart attack, and it was deadly; it wasn't caught until he was in the morgue. Mother was too frail of heart to live without him, and committed suicide less than a month after he buried him. Liliana was all I had left.

When she got out of the hospital, she moved in with me. Soon enough, she was back to her old self, and back to her secretarial job too. I swear, it's almost as if the universe planned for me to be on the verge of recovering from one thing enough to function properly before it dropped the next bomb on my head. I don't know all the details, but I do know that one day, I got called in to the office after school let out one day. He had some bad news, the headmaster told me, and asked me to sit down. It was all formal and polite, and it set me on edge; all I could do was pray nothing had happened to my sweet sister.

Old brains mist over you know, but I remember that he told me some client of the lawyer she worked for had locked everyone in with a gun, and was making demands. I know he had more to say to me, but even now, I'd still rush to the site praying I could save her somehow. I have to assume something in the negotiations went wrong, since when I got there, the lawyer was dead, and little Liliana was being used as a shield. To this day, I couldn't tell you about the other hostages; I only had eyes for her. She looked at me and smiled, as if to reassure me that it would all be okay.

I'm not too sure what happened next, while she was smiling at me. I just know that she crumpled and fell, a crimson pool widening ever more around her. I ran to my Liliana and fell to my knees beside her; I cradled her in my arms and begged her not to leave me on my own. Even in her last moment, she was only concerned for me; she told me that one day she'd return to my side, that there was a connection between our souls. Then she gasped softly and breathed no more. I think I may have screamed or cried or just lost my mind. No matter what I did, it wouldn't bring her back to me. I remember the scent of her hair to this day; she was that dear to me. I was still cradling her against my chest, willing the open eyes to stop staring sightlessly up at the sky. I didn't care what happened to me anymore without her. I may have rocked with her, then again, I may have stayed still as stone; I don't honestly recall.

What I have been told until I almost remember it myself was that I held her to me, refusing to let go when I should have; I even attacked anyone that tried to take her from me. All I remember is the searing pain in my heart, my soul, and my body when I realized I couldn't bring her back, that she had left me all alone. I think that moment was when my Name, Desolate, was burned into my flesh. It rests right her her blood first touched me. I am sure I was taken to the hospital then released and went back to the school. Somehow they knew about the word now carved into my body, and someone sat down and explained everything to me. I don't remember doing it, but I know they started training me for my position in this new World.

After that, the years blur together. It was day in and out teaching, training, or listening to instrumental music. I did nothing else for the longest time. During this foggy part of my mind, one event is clear: I was transferred to the main branch of Seven Moons, in Japan. Too soon, I was back to the misty place I had retreated to in my mind. With time, though, all wounds heal, as the saying goes. In my case, the fog lifted, and I began to live again. I went to concerts, but only orchestral ones; I did all the things you're supposed to do when you live, but now I noticed and appreciated them, down to the smallest and mundane.

Did you know? I was there the night that Romano lost his family. I was chapperoning the group of student for Seven Moons, and it was an event for all the local schools. I was absolutely thrilled to be a part of this particular concert; I'd heard there was a musical prodigy of sorts, and I wanted to see her for myself. She was pretty as a picture behind that piano, with the rest of her family before and around her on their instruments. Oh, it was grand to hear! About midway through the performance, a man jumped on stage dressed all in black. I, and everyone else, thought he was part of the act, until he shot the first girl. Then, it was like we'd all been put under a spell; no one dared move or speak, most of us wondered if we dare breathe, but his attention was on the family. Three more children and the two adults, plus the little girl behind the piano. She couldn't seem to stop playing and watching the scene unfold, as much under a spell as the rest of us. However, this little girl's song became more and more despairing as she lost brother and sisters. The masked gunman took out her parents, saving her for last for some reason.

He turned the gun on her, and I felt my Name heat up; her melody reached into me and pulled my soul out. She was crying out her desolation through the keys as they stood there staring across the barrel at each other. The blasting thunder of the gunshotrang out, and then there was blood pooling on them both. If I had blinked, I would have missed it; he had turned the gun on himself and pulled the trigger rather than live with the grief she'd forced on him. I felt something in me snap into place, and I suddenly knew why she was bleeding. My Name had been carved by the spilling of another's blood, and now my Name was part of this little girl, carved into her flesh the same way.

I'm not sure how, but I managed to convince Ritsu Minami, the Japanese headmaster, to find a way to finaggle guardianship of her, to make her my ward; what better place for such a young Fighter than in her own Sacrifice's care? I was there when she woke up, everytime, until she remembered me. I didn't do much explaining, just told her that she was my ward and would be coming home with me when she was released. Surely, it must be my lot in life to nurse young women, or at least the ones with the soul connected to my own. Yes, I realize it now that Liliana would have been my Fighter had our Name revealed itself before her death, and she somehow sensed it. I never did, but now I had a second chance; something that was supposed to be impossible.

What a depressing child she was too! Poor Maria, but something had to give. I was forced out of my own fog and pain completely; I had to keep her motivated, to stay cheerful and energetic for her. I supported her during physical therapy, and during the psychological therapy. I still shudder to think about the extra hours and odd jobs I put in to help pay for everything during that time of transition. After she legally became a boy named Romano, had her reproductive organs removed, and started on the steriods, I enrolled her in Seven Moons - him; sorry, I still slip, even after all these years. I'd told him enough that he wouldn't be overwhelmed, but I decided to leave the explainations to the experts; I am merely a History teacher. It was hard to be everything I was, but it had to be done; at different times during the day, I was his instructor, his partner, his pupil, his friend, and his guardian. I never minded listening to him play whatever he felt like when we went home in the evenings. There was this one song that I've named Romano's Requiem; it's the song that can force people to kill themselves when he plays it. It's harmless, if depressing, when played by anyone else. I have to control our ring completely when he does let loose and play it, otherwise we'd have more than a few students and others taking that plunge.

Imagine my surprise, not, when we try out a practice spell battle while he's playing an instrument, and we're stronger than usual. Of course, we can't always have an instrument handy, so we spent more time training how to battle without them. That was where improvement was necessary; I have seen them become life-and-death battles, and I wanted to make sure we weren't the ones to die should that happen to us. Privately, we continued to train with the instruments as well; Romano was always more comfortable playing rather than speaking his spells. The practices were separate until I hit upon the idea of encouraging him to learn an instrument he could carry around at all times; he wanted the panflute, and I suggested the harmonica. He learned both and now carries one or the other around with him.

He became a teacher here; can you believe it? This time no matter whether I encouraged him or pushed him, the stubborn child refused to budge. He now teaches the master of his soul: music. His students are regular children from the school and anyone else interested in learning about his passion. That fool never once thought about leaving Seven Moons, and I guess me as well. He clings to me still, like a duckling to its mother. That's all to the good, I suppose, since I'm too old to travel far, and the world couldn't handle Romano on his own. That's the one thing I fear, you know: unleashing Romano on the world uncontrolled. He can control the ring - I have made sure of that, but he can not control himself. I can feel his grief through the bond, strong as it was at the start - even after twenty-six years. I hate to think of the anguish he'll go through when I die; that alone keeps me from telling him what I know. I've already told Malik that I'm dying and what should be done about Romano when that event passes. Let us pray that he will find someone and not have to take Romano out completely.

I see you caught that. It's not just my old age that tells me I don't have much time left, you know. I have been diagnosed with a rare cancer, and elected not to undergo therapy. I have lived my life the way I wanted, and I decided that whatever birthday I see last will be good enough for me. The doctors gave me ten years, maximum, but warned me that I could go at any time. So that I wouldn't have any regrets, I started doing more - rather than less like had been recommended. One of the students got me "hooked" on a show called Axis Powers: Hetalia, and now I watch it every chance I get. I've also made it my mission to share it with the other students, so I tell them that it will help them study; you wouldn't believe how many actually believe me! Something else I've done is make out a will; it's all legal and what not, and I'm leaving everything to Romano. It all goes to Moon-sensei in the event of Romano's death, since she's the only one I trust not to explode, mutliate, or sell everything. There, I think we've covered everything.


Spouse: N/A
Race/Ethnicity: English
Language: Japanese, English, Italian
Blood Type: AB+
Hobbies: listening to instrumental music, watching Axis Powers: Hetalia
Likes: living in Japan, the Italy brothers
Loves: convincing his students watching Hetalia will help them study
Dislikes: any non-instrumental music, Romano talking about zombies and/or apocalypses, politics
Loathes: being wrong, Romano's mind games, Romano talking about taking over the world
Fears: getting in a wreck and unleashing Romano upon the world
Strengths: distracting Romano when need be, tactics and strategy
Good qualities: thoughtful, puts up with all of Romano's quirks, energetic
Bad habits: singing off-key in the shower (pretending to be an opera singer)
Turn ons: cross-dressers, adult size costumes in general
Turn offs: "emo" kids, "scene" kids, "goths", "punks", etc.
Other: Jonathan knows his time is limited to a decade at most, and he's preparing Romano for the loss. He's also given Malik warning as well, should the Fighter give vent to his grief when Jonathan dies.

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