Post by Andrew Corbin on Apr 18, 2016 0:42:01 GMT -6
Andrew Corbin
FACE CLAIM: Sean O'Pry
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AGE: Born January 5, 1994 (22)
GENDER: Male
ORIENTATION: Demisexual
POSITION: College Student
POWER: Enhanced Senses
He can see, hear, feel, taste, and smell much greater than a normal person. All of his senses are about twice as strong as an average person’s. This comes with benefits and consequences.
LIMITATIONS:
-Can’t turn them off
-Can’t be increased or dulled
-Can’t beat someone with one specifically enhanced sense
-Can be deprived of senses
-Doesn’t have night vision
-Doesn’t have echolocation
SIDE-EFFECTS:
-Ability can be used against him
-Can’t turn them off
-Frequent headaches
-Can lose consciousness with extreme exposure
-Occasional loss of one sense for varying time period
-Extra sensitive to loud noise, bright lights, and strong scents
HEIGHT: 6 feet, 5 inches
HAIR COLOR: Brown
EYE COLOR: Blue
MISC:
-Large scar on his right bicep
PERSONALITY:
Numb. Numb to touch. Numb to feeling. Numb to caring. Andrew doesn’t feel like everyone else does. Andrew doesn’t show the few times he does. He’s numb. Unaffected. Like a chilled body. Like a frozen corpse. Unable to feel when something taps it. Unable to recognize when something reaches out. Uncaring even when it notices.Grey. Grey like a rain cloud. Grey like iron. Grey like smoke. The color crowds and consumes. Like mist blanketing a city. Andrew’s world is a mass of shapeless grey. Other colors pop out and shine against it’s dull hues. Yet they are swiftly consumed. Buried beneath the fog. Choked by the smoke. Only some can pierce through the dense sheet of grey. Even then they don’t tend to last.
Bland. Bland like air. Bland like poison. Bland like nothing. Andrew is tasteless. No flavour can define him. At least for very long. There can be a burst of sour. A patch of sweet. A moment of tang. A pop of spice. Yet they all fade and regress back to nothing. Back to the bland tastelessness.
SECRET(S): None
FATHER: Eric
MOTHER: Francine
SIBLINGS: None
WORTHY MENTIONS: None
CHILDHOOD:
Home was a foreign word. Shelter was the one Andrew used. He only had a father. One most would call scum. Andrew called him Eric. They were stuck with each other after the divorce. Andrew wasn’t loved, but he was cared for. In the most basic sense of the word. He had a roof. He had food. He had a blanket. As far as his father was concerned, that was all Andrew needed. Anything else, Andrew got himself. He was just fine with that. He became independent. Self reliant. Anything he wanted, he worked for. It was his lot in life. It only motivated him to do better than Eric.He didn’t have a childhood. Much like he didn’t have a home. From a young age Andrew learned to work. He helped where he could get paid, and saved what little he had. He hid it from his father. One mistake left him penniless, and littered their house with empty bottles. It was a mistake Andrew never made again. He got smarter in his own right. Learned from the people he knew were more intelligent than him. Stole their knowledge to fuel his. Stole their money to fill his pockets. He was clever. He had to be.
ADOLESCENCE:
Time passed by. Andrew grew. He became more distant to others. More independent. In control of his own life. Friends were a story tale concept. Allies were a necessity. He gathered what he could, but trusted no one. Especially not his father. The constant reminder of what not to become. What failure could cost him. What mistakes could turn him into. He managed on his own, and only used his father for food and shelter. Andrew already had jobs. Maybe not legal ones, but jobs that got him what he needed. Jobs that kept his head above the rising tide.Yet something jarred his routine. Turned his life upside down. He was 16. Suddenly the world came to life. Like the volume had been turned to the max. It was painful. It was unexpected. He hated that most of all. Five days passed after the incident. Men came. Told him he was a mutant, that he had to move again. He wasn’t upset. They were offering him an education. A chance in life he never had. An escape from the hole he was forced to live in. Andrew packed his bags and took his earnings. He never looked back.
ADULTHOOD:
Another move. More time gone. Andrew grew even more. He matured. He mellowed. He grew more distant. In control. Emotionless. Bland. Effective. He cared less for those around him. More set in his own routine. More consumed in his own world. People became white noise. An obstacle to overcome. Or a tool to use. Friends weren’t real. Allies were. Rarely did Andrew discover someone who broke free. Someone who could stand against his void of black. Someone who could draw his interest. Too quickly would they fade from memory. Too quickly would they become obsolete. Join the rest of the mass he left behind.Socially Andrew was broken. He never cared to fix it. He never saw a need to. He was working with machines. He understood them. He was more machine than man himself. With cold iron instead of warm flesh. Circuitry instead of muscle. He didn’t need people. He’d survived long enough on his own without any real friends. He didn’t trust anyone. He didn’t want to. People could let him down. So could machines, but machines he could repair. He’d rather ignore people. He was used to doing it already.
SAMPLE: Done.
USERNAME: Rick
AGE GROUP: 30s
EXPERIENCE: 8 years
WHERE DID YOU FIND US? RPG-D