Post by Deleted on Dec 28, 2014 20:33:47 GMT -8
| [attr="class","apptop"]name: [attr="class","appanswer"] FORRESTER GALE HUXLEY [attr="class","apptop"]age: [attr="class","appanswer"] EIGHTEEN [attr="class","apptop"]birthday: [attr="class","appanswer"] MAY 31st, 2001 [attr="class","apptop"]sexuality: [attr="class","appanswer"] DUDES & DUDETTES & BEYOND! [attr="class","apptop"]realm: [attr="class","appanswer"] RED [attr="class","apptop"]power: [attr="class","appanswer"] SUBATOMIC PARTICLE MANIPULATION [attr="class","apptop"]play by: [attr="class","appanswer"] MAXIM MITROFANOV [attr="class","apptop"]roleplayer: [attr="class","appanswer"] mosaicROOSTER | |
| [PTabbedContent] [PTab=POWER] [attr="class","appcon"]Abilities: Forrester is the electrical sort of fella, and he's oh-so magnetic.[attr="class","appcon"]Explanation of Power:
[li]STIMULATION: this ubeity permits Forrester to utilise the mana in his body to recreate electricity without an external source. This means Forest can still conjure up electricity from the palm of his hand or even his entire body without the need to be in contact of external electric current in wires or the protons and electrons in clouds (and even metals), et cetera. | |
- Weakness: The voltage is typically weaker than if he were to use an external source as he only has a limited amount of mana and must use it sparingly. Speaking of which: as he's using the mana from his own body, he's essentially using his own energy. The more he uses his power without recharging, the more lethargic and fatigue he becomes. If Forrester pushes too hard, he could very well cause himself to pass out. It also seems to make him miserably hungry (which he'll whine about until sated).
[li]MANA STORM (+boost): During a mana storm, Forrester can positively charge himself with protons, attracting the negatively charged electrons from the mana storm clouds, and receive a bolt of mana (in the form of lightning). This enhances his power exponentially.[/li]
- Weakness: Too much power means virtually no control, making him a threat to not only the enemy, but to himself and to allies as well. On top of that, it seems to put him in a hyper-emotional state (ultimately clouding judgement), which may contribute to the lack of control he has over his gift. Lastly: this only works if it's a mana storm. Regular lightning (in the first example in "MANIPULATION") does not give him a boost or recharge.
[li]MAGNETIC: Simply put, with given the power to manipulate subatomic particles, Forrester can make himself and/or another object temporarily magnetic for the duration of his concentration (meaning as soon as he's not focused on manipulating, the magnetic qualities are instantly lost). He mainly uses this to "summon" an item. [/li]
- Weakness: It can really suck being magnetic. Lots of little things can cling on to him depending upon the magnetic strength. He can even impale himself he's not too careful and considerate.
[attr="class","appcon"]Ubeity:
Quetzalcoatl
[attr="class","appcon"]Height:
5'5 [attr="class","appcon"]Hair Color:
LIGHTNING WHITE [attr="class","appcon"]Eye color:
LEFT (BROWN), RIGHT (GREEN) [attr="class","appcon"]Play By:
MAXIM MITROFANOV (for now) [attr="class","appcon"]General Appearance:
Looks can be deceiving for Forrester's small framHis face seems to be structured rather craftily for his jawline is near square and leads into a soft point at the forming of his chin. His lips settle easily on his slightly gaunt face, adding the volume to where it is lacking by his cheek bones. Unfortunately for him, his nose is on the slighter side so doesn't project with great masculinity. His eyes are narrow yet heavy and tired, the shade of dull brown and green (heterochromia) peering beneath thin, long lashes.
It was once due to his self-consciousness that this young man always made sure to keep his weight in check, but now, after Earth's demise, it's caused by scarce rations. As a result of malnutrition (accompanied by his usual activeness), Forrester has fairly sturdy shoulders, a chest to match, and ribs that taper down narrowly through his waist and to his hips where sturdy legs then commence. The greatest downfall for any of this is his being so "tiny." He's much too thin.
Naturally, Forrester's hair rests in subtle waves with little wisps curling at the very ends, but if kept to (which seems to be the norm nowadays), one will find that his hair bunches right up into clumpy, greasy strands forming matted wings of choppy hair.
Even before the calamity, Forrester has collected quite the many battle scars from years of abuse, of living a gang life . On his lower lip, Rez has a faint mark stretching from the midst of his mouth and to the end of his lip. On his arms, torso, and back are assorted scars from brawls. However, the scars which aren't minor grazes (like the ones on his legs and arms) were likely acquired through the hardships when the world was ending..
As for clothing: Forrester prefers to keep “hidden,” thus wears layers despite even when heat rolls in (unless the heat is far too great). He can oft be found wearing a remotely form-fitting tee shirt topped by an open flannel with some casual jeans to follow. His clothes worn to tattered, and stained even after being washed in some river bank. His boots are also greatly worn-down with the leather frayed and scuffed an the left sole holey. If given any sort of article of clothing, Rez will most likely wear it. Sometimes he'd even wear silly outfits just to for laughs (like a tutu if he found mixed in with some rubble).
Also: Rez will always have a lollipop on hand and in his mouth if he's not smoking at the time. Although it's not sure how he tends to always have one on hand, another can theorise he raided some stores during the chaotic hours.
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[attr="class","appcon"]Song: (youtube)
[attr="class","appcon"]Likes:
- Chaos & Adrenaline: the calamity, violence, fighting, harassing, rebelling, reaping a vain girl of her esteem, motorcycles & dirtbikes whenever those blasted things are available...
- Vices: drinking, smoking, sex (or so he thinks)...
- Recreational: back in the day, he used to like surfing, roller-blading, ice-skating, hockey, clubbing (even though he doesn’t dance), and even snowboarding. Now a days? He pretty much skulks and mugs and deals as "recreation."
- Foods & Beverages: Fruits, roasted rabbits and freshwater fish, and his mo'fudgin' lollipops.
- Miscellaneous: Desi Ansel (twin), wild cats, snow, rain, music, kisses, sunrise, and philosophy.
[attr="class","appcon"]Dislikes:
- No bueno: doing what he doesn't want to do at the time, being dominated, authority figures (or figures that try to assume the authority role), being ignored, adult males, tall men, sexual situations (for not)...
- People: step-dad's an asshole (thank God he's dead), wimps/weaklings, aliens (i.e. human babies, goblins, goblin babies), and Mum's bit of a b?-?-?h, too (who knows if she lives).
- Foods & Beverages: vegetables (especially Brussels sprouts and spinach), juice, and blue cheese.
- Miscellaneous: Spring, chickens & other freakish birds, wool...
- Post-Apocalypse: it's almost like catching a serious offender and letting him live, but only to torture him in the meantime. It's ruthless and brutal, yet considerate enough not to let the criminal die. The cycle just repeats. The pain doesn't end. And just when someone thinks they're starting to get used to it thanks to callouses, the afflicted areas are then rotated and the pain is as fresh as it once was to begin with.
[attr="class","appcon"]General Personality:
Forrester is what the scientists like to call the cause of “bad boy syndrome” for girls. He’s cruel with a dose of arrogance, which, after exposure, can become more than overwhelming. Rebellion is basically what he thrives off of, only doing what he does because it’s what he does best. No girl is of exception, no man is of exception; whether one is liked by Forrester or not, they will get the whipping of his insensitivity and lust for hatred. It would be a lie if one said that he’s been in a perfectly normal relationship with a perfectly normal girl. Being masochistic and sadistic, Forrester has always found himself in short-term abusive relationships, feeding off the adrenaline as though it were the most potent drug the world’s riches could buy.Back in the family home, Forrester was just as aggressive. In order to slide by through the day without getting into physical fights at home, his family became quite detached from him and he from them. He would get food if he was hungry, get drinks if he was thirsty or not; crack open a beer if his step-father left any around, and then simply ignore the rest of the bodies within the house. When interaction did come into play, the home would be a battlefield and this young man would either find himself pinned on the floor by his step-father’s hands or rushing out the door to escape his own wild emotions. “Out of control,” his parents would say. “Forrester is simply out of control.”
As one could imagine: this era of survivalists suits him rather nicely; but, he'd never have imagined this sort of life to be so... exhausting.
Needless to say: despite all the bottled rage and violent tendencies, Forrester has his serene moments and these moments are only share with his younger brother Fane. The two are fraternal twins. Fane is perhaps one of the only people who can get Forrester to calm down and talk about what’s going on in in his chaotic mind and chaotic life, which Forrester set up him for himself – at least, before the calamity. Even though both are eighteen years old, they will often find themselves laying together the next morning after a long, emotional night of a heart-to-heart chat, or just regular bonding time.
[/PTab={max-height:200px;min-height:200px;}][PTab=HISTORY]
[attr="class","appcon"]Family:
- FANE
- Twin brother (gifted)
[li]GRACE[/li]
- Mother (unknown)
[li]DANIEL[/li]
- Step-father (deceased)
[/ul]
[attr="class","appcon"]History:
“Had it not been for that calamidy bohlshit, I’d ‘av’ been in juvy till I was eighteen. Heh, you pro’bly don’t think that’s such a bad thing. The apoc’lypse is so much worse than servin’ yer entire adolescence in juvy, right? Well, I’m gon’ hafta ‘gree on that one. In fact, sometimes I miss juvy… It was like a second, better home.”It was rough at home. Mother was far too young to be a good mother; father had certain vices that affected both Forrester and Fane – twins – for, likely, the rest of their lives. It was obvious by the time Fane and Forrester were toddlers that they were some other man’s bastard children, which didn’t settle with Daniel – mother’s husband – all too well. One could say it’s been Hell ever since, but truth be told: it was Hell far before the twins were even conceived. It just seemed to get worse as everyone aged.
“My ma must’a been the saddest person I ev’a knew. I did’n know it back then. I jus’ thought... ha, I jus’ thought she didn’t like me. Shit was goin’ down, yenno? And I told her, I really did! But she just said: ‘don’ say naht’n, boy. Don’ say a thing.’ So I didn’t. Didn’t tell anybody. She said we wouldn’t be pulled apart if I didn’t say naht’n, but she was wrong. Fane could do these cool tricks with water, and soon after he showed me, he went off tah some freak-school. No one knew but we were still pulled apart. I was angry, I was real angry! I got into all sorts’a shit! Did and said all sorts’a things a kid shouldn’t say or do. It wasn’t fair! I remember thinkin’ it so unfair…”
As a result, Forrester’s wrath and hurt had been exercised by other means. He’d steal, scapegoat, vandalise, and even commit battery. He’d trespass onto another’s property and had even tried getting into smoking and drinking by the time he was twelve; which, coincidentally, was the year he had pushed too far and ended up being convicted for a rather serious crime.
But in 2014, when the realms collided, he discovered his own ubeity. It came on strongly: completely out of control. Forrester doesn’t even remember his discovery, but he certainly abused his gift – learning along the way of how to use it, move with it, and so on. When all was chaotic and he had his joyous rounds of raiding stores (whistling with a bag of dumdum pops over shoulder), he had his fair share of practice.
Shortly thereafter, as the world (and realms) struggle to heal, he and his brother – having already reunited – gathered up a band of people that went on raids, mugged, scavenged and hunted. They were a pack that would use and abuse each other for survival. But recent events, the pack split up. Different personalities tried to take over and the timid of the flock picked sides. It turned into a political bullshit so Forrester and Fane slipped away. They’ve since Migrated to New York. Of course, Forrester sided with the rebels…
P.S. he did have plenty of people to help teach and train him with his powers during his gang years.
[/PTab={max-height:200px;min-height:200px;}] [PTab=ROLEPLAY] It’s raining again… the pit-patters of remorse bulleted against cratered rocks. The skies were a morbid gray – dark, almost black – as though some artist smeared his charcoal passionately. Even so, with the wailing thunder off in the distance, not a single bolt of light penetrated through the darkness.
It was the dark hours, the lonely hours. Cold and acrid. An angry gale that managed to hiss into this cavernous shelter caused bones to rattle and skin to shiver. That was when a couple of boys huddled together. “I’ll go gatha’ some wood so I can start ye’a fire,” stated the blond’un, but the opposing voice pleaded him not to: ‘ye can’t,’ the little raven crowed, ‘it’s no good wet!’
An assuring, heavy hand then rested atop a fraternal shoulder. “An’ that’s where you come in. I get tha wood, and you drain it dry.” No more disputes were to be had. The bone-white youth stood on his own two feet and removed a couple layers of shirts and dropped them onto the opposing soot-black head that cowered in response. “Put these on; I’ll be back.”
Brr! It was cold, so cold! It felt like acid was burning away flesh upon entering the haze of rain! But he stood indomitably, unfazed – inscrutably – before offering his brother a wave. The rocks scuffed under boot and twigs snapped beneath his weight. He marched through the woods (slightly sheltered by the towering trees) as he gathered twigs and thicker branches – all soaked to the core. One more rumble of thunder, and he head back to this week’s shelter.
Upon entering the cave (soaked from head to heel), the twigs were dropped – cacophonously clamouring – whilst the other boy scooted closer to the pile and began to expel the moisture from these twigs. In the meantime, the blondie removed the rest of his clothing and laid them about to dry.
After receiving his overshirts again (and donning them, of course), this one crouched before the dried pile of wood and snapped his fingers.
A spark took a liking to its offering, and so a little fire began to grow. [/PTab={max-height:200px;min-height:200px;}][/PTabbedContent={max-height:200px;min-height:200px;}][/td][/tr][/tbody][/table][/font][/div]
