Caleb Masters

[Caleb Masters]

NAME: Caleb Jonathan Masters
NICKNAME: N/A
AGE: 21
GENDER: Male
ORIENTATION: Bisexual
POSITION: College Student
FACE CLAIM: Edward Wilding

POWER:
Force Field Generation
Caleb has the power to erect a force field in his general vicinity. Once the force field is up it will physically stop many things from going through it, but does not affect sight or sound. The barrier can be broken by strong force or the incapacitation of Caleb himself which can be achieved in many different ways. Physical powers are less effective as mental powers, seeing as the barrier does not affect mental powers in the slightest.

Small barriers do not require too much concentration and can be triggered by intense emotions - most usually fear or determination. Larger barriers require much more focus and can easily be interrupted if Caleb loses that concentration. Oddly enough, meditation helps with this.

He does not often use his powers, as generally there aren't many uses for force fields in normal situations. Usually when he does use it, it's to help keep people safe from stray flying objects. A common occurrence in Bellefonte Academy it seems.

Limitations
It is difficult to create a closed force field that is any bigger than a small group of people, as Caleb has had few years to perfect his skill and is not as devoted as some might be. It is also not possible for him to hold a force field at that size for longer than a few hours without harm. Concurrently, the barriers are easier to hold and maintain when they are closer to his person, although he can easily make small barriers nearly 75 feet away.

Depending on how dense the barrier and how focused he is, Caleb's force fields can stop things moving with great speed and power. Obviously that doesn't mean he can stop a speeding car or anything, but he supposes that with a small force field he could maybe stop a bullet. He'd rather not find out, honestly. It's just speculation at this point.

Side-Effects

APPEARANCE SECTION: Caleb has short dark-blond hair, styled just to perfection with wax – not gel, that shit is awful – and tender love and care. His eyes are light blue and framed by thick curly lashes. There is nary a blemish on his face thanks to his meticulous in his health care routines. Facial hair is also a no-go, as are overgrown side burns. There was that one instance with a mustache, but that didn't work out well in the end.

Due to his daily routine of working out his body is in excellent shape. He walks with confidence and grace, proud of the work he's put into looking as good as he does. However, he never overdoes it. Bodybuilders have exceptionally strong bodies but the look he goes for is toned, not wall of steel. Why anybody would ever need to bench press a car is beyond him anyways. As long as he's got guns and abs of steel he's fine.

MUST HAVE APPAREL: Caleb has two distinct styles and is always wearing one or the other on his outings into Kalispell. The first is one of comfort. Sometimes that means a t-shirt, shorts, and thong combo and others it means a clean shirt, a pair of ripped jeans, and some sneakers. It varies from situation to situation, as well as what season it is. He also likes to wear his brown leather jacket whenever he can.

His second style is more of a 'style' than the first – and that is expensive and tasteful dress clothes. They are the furthest thing from comfortable, but he does love putting on a show. Blazers and jeans work well for going to a bar and a suit does just fine for a date, should he ever find himself on one. And of course, he's got a tuxedo somewhere. Though putting it on is certainly a chore.

PERSONALITY SECTION: Caleb is an outgoing person, usually preferring the company of others over being alone. Of course, like most people, he does sometimes crave solitude. Those times are far and few between. When in a group of people he thrives on being the center of attention, always doing his best to keep the spotlight on him, at least a little. Some would call him narcissistic and, well, he honestly wouldn't disagree. He knows that he cares too much about his appearance and how well liked he is, but he doesn't see why that's such a big deal. Just like some people don't want any attention he's happy to have more than his share of it.

Despite it all, though, he is a generally nice person. He doesn't like being disliked, and therefor tries his hardest to stay on everybody's good side. Not that there aren't some people he simply can't seem to get along with no matter how he tries. Usually he steers clear of those people because it just upsets him that he can't please everybody. Still, he does his best to always be respectful, even if it's difficult.

If somebody is rude or hurtful to him, he usually responds with a joke but later, when he's alone, he will get either sad or angry. He doesn't like other people seeing that way, and does his best to let others know that he isn't affected by what they say even though he greatly is.

He feels that his power makes him unlikeable to some people and, while he doesn't detest it, he isn't as focused in his training as he knows he should be. In normal academics he tries to excel at everything he does, though some things do come easier to him than others.

EXTRA QUIRK: He likes wearing sunglasses, but not inside, and he works out whenever he has the free time. Also, healthy food almost all the time. He only allows himself a set amount of unhealthy meals a month. He enjoys running, yoga, and meditation. Blame the power.


FATHER: Timothy Masters, a strict yet loving ex marine. He is currently working as the manager of a gym.
MOTHER: Sarah Masters, a gentle and caring librarian.
SIBLINGS: None
PET: None
SIGNIFICANT OTHER: None
WORTHY MENTIONS: None


CHILDHOOD: Caleb grew up in a quaint suburb home with his mother and father in West Virginia. He was constantly coddled by his mother, being praised for everything he did. His father was more of a tough love kind of man, and not easy to please. In hindsight, Caleb supposes that this was where his complex of pleasing people and being liked started. He tried his hardest when he was young to receive the approval of his father. That's not to say that his father didn't love him or tell him he was proud of him – far from it. It's just that the man wasn't forthcoming with those kinds of comments. It always made Caleb feel so happy when his father was pleased with what he was doing.

Thanks to his mother being a librarian, Caleb started reading and learning at a young age and was intellectually advanced compared to his peers. He never thought himself better for it, but being ahead of everybody else made him happy and it was something he strived for. Of course that meant that some people weren't happy with him, and so he did his best to be friendly and kind to them so they would like him. It didn't always work, and it made his feelings conflicted. He liked making his parents happy by being smart but didn't like how his peers sneered and wouldn't play with him. His younger years were wrought with mood swings and daycare woes.

ADOLESCENCE: As he grew older, those same feelings continued although it became easier to accept the fact that not everybody was going to appreciate the effort he put into things. It was his father, actually, that finally had that conversation with him. Though he couldn't please everyone, he could keep doing what he was doing and be the best person that he could be. If that made other people jealous or if they didn't think his best was good enough then he shouldn't have to worry about it. Obviously, he took his fathers words to heart.

When he was seven years old he started to gain interest in sports and was only encouraged by his parents. Baseball, or the childish version, was his first foray into sports. He loved it and tried several others but never as much as baseball. Then again, as a nine year old there were only so many sports that he could truly play. It's unfortunate, truly, that it was during a baseball game at the age of 13 that he discovered he had powers. He was walking where he shouldn't have been during the game, and the butterfingers up to bat had lost his grip on, well, the bat and it flew towards Caleb with great force and velocity. Raising his hands up to stop the impact, he accidentally summoned a barrier to block it.

At the time he had no idea what had happened, but he wasn't nursing a concussion or missing teeth so he looked a gift horse in the mouth. That was a bad decision. You never look a gift horse in the mouth. Bad things happen when you do, such as weird government type agents coming to your house and stealing you away from your family. “Yes you can contact them.” “No we're not going to hurt you.” “Of course you'll see them again.” “You don't have a choice.”

It was a difficult part of his life, and though he's come to terms with it now as an adult it was still traumatizing and debilitating. He made a life for himself at Bellefonte Academy as a student, but it was years before he was back to his normal self. School still came easy to him, though surrounded by some crazy intelligent people was crippling to his self esteem which was already lowered after the loss of his parents. Baseball was never the same either, and he didn't play at all while he was at the school. Instead, he took up cross country and hockey and track and field. They never resonated with him as much as baseball, but he learned to enjoy them. They helped him cope in ways that he could never explain to anybody else.

ADULTHOOD: After he got his diploma the first thing he did was see his parents. It was an overwhelming moment and many tears were shed. No shame, Caleb would never deny the fact that he missed his family and if he wanted to cry about he damn well would. So many people at Bellefonte felt the same, he was sure, and they would not begrudge him this fact. Still, he didn't bring it up. Paranoia or whatever you want to call it.

The funniest thing though, was that seeing his parents and telling them about his life in more detail and with more emotion than he could in any letter, he realized that he was happy with his life. He didn't hate Bellefonte Academy for what they did, not anymore. They maybe even saved him from himself. Hopefully it wasn't all just some sort of Stockholme Syndrome thing. Still, he knew he had to go back to Kalispell at the very least. It was just safer for someone like him to, and if there was anything he didn't want then it was to bring harm to his family.

After making it back to the school he was melancholy for awhile but pulled himself together faster than he thought he would. College was different from high school in many ways, but the freedom was incredible. No he wasn't completely free, but he could do almost anything without supervision and that was thrilling. A lot of his early college days were filled with parties and sex and booze. He still managed to pull of a pretty good GPA, but he soon found that he would have to balance everything out or he would never graduate college. And that just wouldn't do. So he refocused on school and brought his grades up to where he felt they should be.

Life as an English major wasn't easy, but he made it work and kept himself happy at the same time. Of course he still parties and drinks and has sex, but it's not as prominent as it once was. Sports are still a big part of his life as well. Now he just needed some good friends instead of the long list of contacts in his phone who he called for a good time. Shame he hadn't had too many of those before now.


SAMPLE:

SPOILER: Click to show

This town was bat shit insane. And poor! Why was he here again? No wealthy men to steal from, no ladies to bed, and not even a single person who wasn't incredibly paranoid or out of their minds! Though really, living in a place like this Oberan could almost forgive them. Almost. Fucking crazies. Then again, he was actually here because he'd had a dream. Damn, was he a crazy too? Nah, he was way too smooth to be crazy.

The first person he'd met in this God forsaken town had given him the stink eye and spit at his feet. If that was any indication of the hospitality of the place, which he had indeed taken it as, well then he couldn't trust a single soul that resided here. Hell, he'd almost been willing to stay at the tavern except when he walked past he could hear angry growling and really, who wanted to deal with that?

So instead of just sucking it up, he'd decided that, hey, the smell is awful but the streets are free! You might even find a beggar to swindle! Wow, he was pretty desperate for cash wasn't he. Well that's what happened when you spent all of your (hard and legally earned) money coming to a place in the middle of nowhere that smelled like a fish asshole. Probably. Who knows what a fish asshole smells like.

Anyways, that was a bad fucking idea because, evidently, not only were the people rude, so were the motherfucking ghosts. Ghosts! Real live ghosts with crazy vendettas against people they've never met before! His mind was still stuck on ghosts, honestly. Because ghosts, man. Ghosts!

Still, he had his magic and that had saved his life. Thus far. Good thing he was good at illusions, though, because throwing a bolt of lightning was cool and all but would it really help against ghosts? Would it? Would it really? He didn't think it would. But being able to conceal yourself in plain sight? Yeah that was pretty damn useful. So that's what he did. A simple glamour and boom, no ghost could sense him. Boom. Boom again.

Or that was the idea. It may or may not have worked. He was actually kind of scared, because the ghosts were rather terrifying, so he stayed mostly in the shadows. Of the alleys. Which were also kind of scary. So in all actualities, he was running from one alley to the next because staying in one for too long freaked him out. And no, that isn't a reason to call him a scaredy cat. Being brave is great and all, but not if it gets you killed. If a healthy dose of fear can keep him breathing, then fuck yeah, he's all game for that.

He'd been scurrying around for what seemed like hours, and man did he need to work on his endurance, when he heard frantic shouting. Of the female variety. Never one to leave a lady in distress, he hurried towards the voice and prayed that his magic actually kept him from being noticed. He turned a corner to see a cloaked woman, or so he assumed from the voice, pounding on a door and looking around scared.

His cape billowed behind him as he rushed to her side and grabbed her arm, keeping it from pounding on the door. In a swift motion, he pulled her to the side of the home and into a dark alley which was not much different from any of the others that he'd spent the night in. And didn't that just sound pitiful. He placed his palm over her mouth and moved in close, pushing her against the clay the house was made of.

“Shh,” he whispered. “Yelling and shouting like that, it's as if you want to get bad touched by a freaky apparition. Or do you? Was that the point? My bad if it was. If not, well then you should probably stop letting them all know where you are.” He took his hand back, but stayed close. He wasn't some back alley rapist, after all, and those were the kinds of people associated with pulling ladies into alleys, shoving in close, and covering their mouths. Awkward.

A rustle came from the end of the alley they were closest too and in a panic, he snapped his fingers and cast a glamour on the mystery woman as well. God he hoped that noise wasn't a ghost.

They were just really, really, really fucking creepy.

USERNAME: Lucifer, Luci

AGE GROUP: 20

EXPERIENCE: 'Bout 8 years or so now?

WHERE DID YOU FIND US? Went on Proboards forums.

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