![](http://i.imgur.com/MnVP6Eh.png" "source: imgur.com")
Post by Nathaniel Harver on Apr 13, 2014 21:16:40 GMT -6
NATHANIEL, TERRANCE, HARVER
26//MALE//HOMOSEXUAL//NEURO SUPRESSION//COP//ELIJAH WOOD
POWER INFO:
If something is controlled or monitored by the nerves of his body then he can manipulate it, mostly in the negative. Rapid pulse? Slow that puppy down. Muscle twitching? Not any more. Pain? Well, that doesn't need to be worried about right now. Cold? Psh, the water's fine.
The receptors in his spinal cord that connect to the base of his brain basically have a control switch, or when it comes to the nerves in his face there is a switch to the receptors directly connected to those parts of his head.
At first there is no control over whether something is turned off or when the of switch gets flung back on and floods the system with whatever sensation was blocked. He also has no control whether the energy from the nerves not being able to relay these message goes out through his own body or out to other people. (Yes, I understand this is 'electrical' energy between nerves, but in his case this electrical energy builds into a different form of energy. This is caused by the activation of his 'mutant' gene. Whatever sensation is being blocked is what is released.)
Next stage in control one can either turn it on or turn it off. When 'turned off' it's more like a dam blocking water, and when the off is flipped back on it can react in two ways. Flooding his own system with the sensation sometimes of equal level as to when it was turned off, or increased strength depending on how long it was blocked. The other way this energy is release is that it exits his body to 'attack' another living being. It does not affect inanimate objects. If the sensation is blocked too long it can literally explode from his body in an bomb like burst. This is does not happen often as in only once in his life time. The sensations had been turned off for weeks, and he learned to never to that again. The energy release to another person is very hard to control how much is released to that person.
(Ex. In history he is stabbed and instead of feeling the pain he blocks it then releases it into the guy wrapped into his arms. Because of lack of control he basically killed the boy, though was revived in the ambulance)
Usually the impulses just flood his own body, and causes him extreme pain. Or washed his body with heat: think extreme fever. Or cold: shivering as though freezing. And that muscle twitch is more like seizure. It takes focus to block the sensations, and if the focus cracks then he of course feels whatever he is blocking. Other times he can't turn the sensation back on. This leads him to days without feeling anything basically the same thing as the genetic disorder called congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis, or CIPA.
He has to check himself in the mirror for cuts, bruises, and burns. Also has to pay attention to how people are dressed to judge weather or not he's overheating his body by wearing too many layers, or freezing by not wearing enough. (Course most days he doesn't care) Though by this time he has enough control he doesn't tend to have the problem of not being able to flip the switch back on to feeling things. Sometimes he just doesn't think to switch it back on or he doesn't feel like well, feeling.
Disadvantages:
As before mentioned: pain, seizures, fevers, or extreme temperature drops. Of course the typical exhaustion, and often increased appetite. Has a real problem feeling things period, has a high pain tolerance, and over time this will basically fry his nerves. Which will lead to all sorts of lovely problems. Ex: Parkinson's
When blocking he has to be very calm and in control otherwise it will lash out to hurt other people. The body's natural response is to release it from the body, and to not let it inflict pain upon the body. Or to let it fry his nerves. Basically by choosing to not hurt other people he is slowly destroying his nerves.
GENERAL APPEARANCE:
At work he wears the typical uniform as required, but whether or not the uniform is clean, or ironed is another matter. Is the shirt tucked in? The buttons aligned correctly? Did he even remember to wear his belt? Depends on the day. When not at work he often wears slacks, button up shirts, and suit jackets simply because they're easy to match. Also because if he looks professional people respect him without him having to try. Though they tend to look twice when they notice the wrinkles or ketchup stains.
If an outing is particularly casual he wears what all Americans tend to wear:jeans and tee shirt. Most of his shirts are plain earth tones with stripes being the most exciting thing to decorate them. Tennis shoes, sneakers, and flip flops litter the bottom of his closet most worn till holey or frayed. He doesn't see the point in buying more clothing until there are more than three holes that are not able to be hidden by layers. And none of his outfits cost more than a tank of gas.
Ever sense he was young he'd had to wear glasses, though when his powers kicked in his eye sight did get a bit better. He could have perfect eyesight if he wanted, but that took constant concentration. Who wanted to waste the energy for something so vain? His glasses aren't some thin, metal rimmed beauties that cost a month's worth of dog food. Instead he buy's his thick, plastic hideous pieces of junk from Walmart or some other generalize store that sells glasses.
Underneath the rumpled clothing is a rather lean body with very little hair. Standing at about five and a half feet he definitely gets sick of the short jokes. Brown hair set atop his head that gets washed and combed, and that's about all the effort that's goes into that. The one thing that tends to stand out about his appearance are his brilliantly blue eyes hidden behind those hideously clunky glasses. Some days people actually get to see them too. The days where shoving a small plastic disc into his eye doesn't sound like Medieval torture.
MUST HAVE APPAREL: Spare pair of glasses, handcuffs, and handkerchief
PERSONALITY:
Everything is by the book, from the book, or based on the book. The thing is he barely has a spine to enforce the book, which doesn't make him the strongest force in the force. Good thing they paired him up with a meat head looney. Slow to anger he rather let things stew over a period of time until he explodes almost literally. He does what he's told when he's told to do it, but as a small act of rebellion he usually does it as slow as possible to the minimum amount of work as possible. The idea of becoming the next great detective, or even working up to something as grand as the FBI was put aside as folly a long time ago. Sure he isn't pushing daisies, but the fire of ambition died somewhere in high school.
The idea that the meek would inherit the earth never met this underachieving police officer. It's not that he's shy, or not talkative, or even that he can't say something mean bout someone. He just doesn't have much gumption to carry any of it out. He'll talk if people are talking to him, drink if people around him are drinking, smoke if people are smoking, a good little sheep he follows along. As long as those sheep happen to be following the law, rules, or whatever orders where given to him beforehand. Overall people might seem him as rather bland, but in truth he's just hopeless. Why else would he stay in a small town in Montana?
He hates the idea of hurting people, but sometimes there isn't really an option left. If it wasn't regulation he wouldn't carry a gun, and unless he's on the clock he doesn't. In the safety of what he calls his sanctuary, his home, he snuggles down with his pets to have a movie marathon. Mostly musicals, and older films like "Meet Me in St. Louis", "Brigadoon", "Rear Window", "Gone with the Wind", and any movie that Jimmy Stuart starred in. Back when things were simpler, cleaner, and not as depressing. Cuddling is a favorite past time of his though usually he only ends up cuddling with a two hundred pound dog or ten pound cat.
EXTRA QUIRK: Bird watcher
At work he wears the typical uniform as required, but whether or not the uniform is clean, or ironed is another matter. Is the shirt tucked in? The buttons aligned correctly? Did he even remember to wear his belt? Depends on the day. When not at work he often wears slacks, button up shirts, and suit jackets simply because they're easy to match. Also because if he looks professional people respect him without him having to try. Though they tend to look twice when they notice the wrinkles or ketchup stains.
If an outing is particularly casual he wears what all Americans tend to wear:jeans and tee shirt. Most of his shirts are plain earth tones with stripes being the most exciting thing to decorate them. Tennis shoes, sneakers, and flip flops litter the bottom of his closet most worn till holey or frayed. He doesn't see the point in buying more clothing until there are more than three holes that are not able to be hidden by layers. And none of his outfits cost more than a tank of gas.
Ever sense he was young he'd had to wear glasses, though when his powers kicked in his eye sight did get a bit better. He could have perfect eyesight if he wanted, but that took constant concentration. Who wanted to waste the energy for something so vain? His glasses aren't some thin, metal rimmed beauties that cost a month's worth of dog food. Instead he buy's his thick, plastic hideous pieces of junk from Walmart or some other generalize store that sells glasses.
Underneath the rumpled clothing is a rather lean body with very little hair. Standing at about five and a half feet he definitely gets sick of the short jokes. Brown hair set atop his head that gets washed and combed, and that's about all the effort that's goes into that. The one thing that tends to stand out about his appearance are his brilliantly blue eyes hidden behind those hideously clunky glasses. Some days people actually get to see them too. The days where shoving a small plastic disc into his eye doesn't sound like Medieval torture.
MUST HAVE APPAREL: Spare pair of glasses, handcuffs, and handkerchief
PERSONALITY:
Everything is by the book, from the book, or based on the book. The thing is he barely has a spine to enforce the book, which doesn't make him the strongest force in the force. Good thing they paired him up with a meat head looney. Slow to anger he rather let things stew over a period of time until he explodes almost literally. He does what he's told when he's told to do it, but as a small act of rebellion he usually does it as slow as possible to the minimum amount of work as possible. The idea of becoming the next great detective, or even working up to something as grand as the FBI was put aside as folly a long time ago. Sure he isn't pushing daisies, but the fire of ambition died somewhere in high school.
The idea that the meek would inherit the earth never met this underachieving police officer. It's not that he's shy, or not talkative, or even that he can't say something mean bout someone. He just doesn't have much gumption to carry any of it out. He'll talk if people are talking to him, drink if people around him are drinking, smoke if people are smoking, a good little sheep he follows along. As long as those sheep happen to be following the law, rules, or whatever orders where given to him beforehand. Overall people might seem him as rather bland, but in truth he's just hopeless. Why else would he stay in a small town in Montana?
He hates the idea of hurting people, but sometimes there isn't really an option left. If it wasn't regulation he wouldn't carry a gun, and unless he's on the clock he doesn't. In the safety of what he calls his sanctuary, his home, he snuggles down with his pets to have a movie marathon. Mostly musicals, and older films like "Meet Me in St. Louis", "Brigadoon", "Rear Window", "Gone with the Wind", and any movie that Jimmy Stuart starred in. Back when things were simpler, cleaner, and not as depressing. Cuddling is a favorite past time of his though usually he only ends up cuddling with a two hundred pound dog or ten pound cat.
EXTRA QUIRK: Bird watcher
FATHER: Tyler Harver (46, sheriff)
MOTHER: Leah Stevenson (41,waitress, mutant)
BROTHER: Brian Harver (20, college student, non-mutant)
SISTER: Andrea Harver (16, student, mutant)
PET: Bunny
[/url] (caucasian ovcharka, female, 3), Bam Bam (caucasian ovcharka, male, 4), Pharoh(sphynx, male, 6), Gizmo (sphynx, 6 months, male),Cleopatra(sphynx, 2, female)MOTHER: Leah Stevenson (41,waitress, mutant)
BROTHER: Brian Harver (20, college student, non-mutant)
SISTER: Andrea Harver (16, student, mutant)
PET: Bunny
SIGNIFICANT OTHER: NA
WORTHY MENTIONS: Jillian and Timothy Fray best friends from college[/font]
CHILDHOOD:
Normal, loving, and calm are all words to NOT describe his childhood. It wasn't like his parents abused him, or anything horrible like that. Things were just hectic. There were weeks when his father was tied up with a case, and didn't have time to do fatherly things. Then there were weeks when his mother didn't want to be a mother, and would disappear. On truly specially occasions those weeks would coincide and Nate would take charge. He was the oldest by six years after all, and of course he doesn't really remember the first six years of his life without siblings.
There are happy memories, he'd be entirely screwed up if he didn't have those. Christmas mornings where everyone laughs, and opens presents. Birthdays with cake and friends. Movie nights where his dad actually got home on time with arms filled with pizza boxes. Those misty memories were what got them through the harder times.
Other than his immediate family he doesn't have memories of aunts, uncles, or even grandparents. They simply were not part of their lives. He remembered once being told that there was bad blood between his father and his mother's relatives or something. Or maybe they just lived really far away.
ADOLESCENCE:
His teen years in one word: HELL.
From fourteen on he hated life and he let absolutely everyone around him know it. Homework? Who cared not like he'd ever get a respectable job. Family? All those shiny moments that he remembers now were non-existent in his teenage mind. All he saw were two people who could care less about him and his siblings. Friends? Anyone who hated life as much as he did and wanted to hurt the world around them. Lovers? No one actually. He didn't get involved with people in his teenage days. For one he was far too angry, and for another he was having enough problems being a freak than to add being gay on top of it.
Going to a school with other freaks should've helped but it just made him feel more like a freak. Not being able to be surrounded by normal kids to at least try and blend in with. No, he had to be shipped off to holed up with others like him. Like he was some sort of government secret.
Finally after a particularly violent ending of a party a teacher set him to the side to have some tough love talking to. Seventeen and ready to just jump off a cliff and see how long his powers could hold off the pain he was a bomb ready to go off. The teacher took a personal interest in stopping him from destroying his life and possibly others.
And after almost a year of training with the teacher things were almost under control. He strayed away from his rough crowd friends, and tended to spend more time training to control his powers. Maybe things would be so bad after all? But, on a whim he went out with his old buddies again. Out to the backwoods for a real wild party.
Things went wrong. Really wrong. A girl got hurt. A boy almost drowned in the nearby lake. A knife sticking out of his gut he stood holding the toughest guy in school arms and legs wrapped around him. Blood dripping from his lip at the cops pulled up to them lights flashing. The boy in his arms was barely alive by the time the ambulance showed up, and coded as it pulled away. In the end that boy lived, but the scars of that night remained.
After that Nate stopped trying.
ADULTHOOD:
Things were drastically different in college, mostly because he wasn't angry anymore. Or at least he didn't let the anger out anymore. He took on the whole don't give a rats behind attitude about everything. But two people got their hooks into him and didn't let go. Jill and Tim took him out to bars, took him to dinner, and all points and purposes adopted their little world hater.
After about a year and a half of collage he got his associates, and dropped out. He'd barely gotten into college in the first place with his horrible grades, and didn't see the point in staying. There were plenty of jobs out there that would hire him just the way he was, and after a lot of applications he got a job at the local PD. Course he had to go through training, classes, and all the rigmarole of getting a job with the police. Figured he might as well follow in his old man's shoes even if they hadn't spoken in nearly two years.
The day he graduated from the police academy his father was there, however, and he was in full uniform as proud as could be. His good for nothing son had finally done something right. To this day it was the happiest day of Nathaniel's life seeing his father there saluting him like some sort of army general.
Though he hated not having his father around because of police work he still looked up to his old man, and being a cop was a decent job. It felt almost normal. Sure, he wasn't ever going to be some Will Graham hunting down a Hannibal Lecter, but it was as good as he was probably ever going to get.
Normal, loving, and calm are all words to NOT describe his childhood. It wasn't like his parents abused him, or anything horrible like that. Things were just hectic. There were weeks when his father was tied up with a case, and didn't have time to do fatherly things. Then there were weeks when his mother didn't want to be a mother, and would disappear. On truly specially occasions those weeks would coincide and Nate would take charge. He was the oldest by six years after all, and of course he doesn't really remember the first six years of his life without siblings.
There are happy memories, he'd be entirely screwed up if he didn't have those. Christmas mornings where everyone laughs, and opens presents. Birthdays with cake and friends. Movie nights where his dad actually got home on time with arms filled with pizza boxes. Those misty memories were what got them through the harder times.
Other than his immediate family he doesn't have memories of aunts, uncles, or even grandparents. They simply were not part of their lives. He remembered once being told that there was bad blood between his father and his mother's relatives or something. Or maybe they just lived really far away.
ADOLESCENCE:
His teen years in one word: HELL.
From fourteen on he hated life and he let absolutely everyone around him know it. Homework? Who cared not like he'd ever get a respectable job. Family? All those shiny moments that he remembers now were non-existent in his teenage mind. All he saw were two people who could care less about him and his siblings. Friends? Anyone who hated life as much as he did and wanted to hurt the world around them. Lovers? No one actually. He didn't get involved with people in his teenage days. For one he was far too angry, and for another he was having enough problems being a freak than to add being gay on top of it.
Going to a school with other freaks should've helped but it just made him feel more like a freak. Not being able to be surrounded by normal kids to at least try and blend in with. No, he had to be shipped off to holed up with others like him. Like he was some sort of government secret.
Finally after a particularly violent ending of a party a teacher set him to the side to have some tough love talking to. Seventeen and ready to just jump off a cliff and see how long his powers could hold off the pain he was a bomb ready to go off. The teacher took a personal interest in stopping him from destroying his life and possibly others.
And after almost a year of training with the teacher things were almost under control. He strayed away from his rough crowd friends, and tended to spend more time training to control his powers. Maybe things would be so bad after all? But, on a whim he went out with his old buddies again. Out to the backwoods for a real wild party.
Things went wrong. Really wrong. A girl got hurt. A boy almost drowned in the nearby lake. A knife sticking out of his gut he stood holding the toughest guy in school arms and legs wrapped around him. Blood dripping from his lip at the cops pulled up to them lights flashing. The boy in his arms was barely alive by the time the ambulance showed up, and coded as it pulled away. In the end that boy lived, but the scars of that night remained.
After that Nate stopped trying.
ADULTHOOD:
Things were drastically different in college, mostly because he wasn't angry anymore. Or at least he didn't let the anger out anymore. He took on the whole don't give a rats behind attitude about everything. But two people got their hooks into him and didn't let go. Jill and Tim took him out to bars, took him to dinner, and all points and purposes adopted their little world hater.
After about a year and a half of collage he got his associates, and dropped out. He'd barely gotten into college in the first place with his horrible grades, and didn't see the point in staying. There were plenty of jobs out there that would hire him just the way he was, and after a lot of applications he got a job at the local PD. Course he had to go through training, classes, and all the rigmarole of getting a job with the police. Figured he might as well follow in his old man's shoes even if they hadn't spoken in nearly two years.
The day he graduated from the police academy his father was there, however, and he was in full uniform as proud as could be. His good for nothing son had finally done something right. To this day it was the happiest day of Nathaniel's life seeing his father there saluting him like some sort of army general.
Though he hated not having his father around because of police work he still looked up to his old man, and being a cop was a decent job. It felt almost normal. Sure, he wasn't ever going to be some Will Graham hunting down a Hannibal Lecter, but it was as good as he was probably ever going to get.
SAMPLE: See Mae or Chris
USERNAME: 13
AGE GROUP: Quarter of a century
EXPERIENCE: Lil over a decade
USERNAME: 13
AGE GROUP: Quarter of a century
EXPERIENCE: Lil over a decade
