Post by Manslaughter on Dec 12, 2006 3:30:26 GMT
(Morgan’s second charry! Angst ahoy!
Having bad computer issues and can’t really log out to make an account. Figured I might as well get the application looked at.)
Name: Arthur Coleman
Codename:Radar (He has since dropped this alias after his voluntary injection of the Cure. Though at times some now refer to him as Artie and his students as Professor Coleman, but nothing else.)
Age: 34
Mutation: After a rather severe concussion that rendered his eyes useless, his mutant genes kicked in during the middle of his mind’s reparation process. Therefore, the nerves replaced and repaired were done so with mutated cells, and his mutation spread rapidly across his mind, enhancing his extrasensory awareness almost tenfold. But, of course, with every great power comes even greater responsibility and consequences. And that was something he had to find out the hard way.
Psychometry is by far his strongest ability. By having his person within a certain range or having direct contact with a living being, place, or object, he is endowed with the ability to ‘read’ the details and past condition of said target. This is done by latent psychic imprints that psionically connect with his own psyche and allow him to ‘view’ these past events or feelings in his minds’ eye. Some things may only allow him flashes and bursts of strong feeling, jumbling memories together to form one big glob of the most dominant emotion or occurrence. However, other things have whole memories that he can absorb in striking detail. And only this allows him to ‘see’. Ever since his bout of freedom with the ‘cure’ and allowing his mind to reorganize itself for a time, Arthur has now somewhat learned to control these abilities that before left him shaking with nightmares and strange phobias from coming into contact with the same memories again and again without being able to block them out. And now each time his skin touches something he won’t have to worry so much about the sharp stabbing or sudden rush of a memory or feeling being forced into his awareness. (Despite this, his hands remain void of fingerprints, since they are his main receivers of directly absorbed imprints.)
This has allowed him to develop a mental depth perception. He allows his mind to reach out to the psychic imprints around him, and depending on how long it takes for these to ‘bounce’ back and register lets him know how far away something is. Though this is not exactly as accurate being able to see these things, and something moving far too quickly for him to register may confuse him. (ex. A bullet, a mutant with superhuman agility.) Arthur will feel the soft feathering of something against his consciousness, but otherwise he won’t be able to grasp a strong enough hold on it.
As if the idea of some places and objects being haunted to him isn’t scary enough, Arthur unfortunately carries the burden of a low-grade empathy. This merely allows him to recognize others by their emotional patterns, ‘feel’ others around him, and quite literally feel what others are feeling. He is far too emotionally shattered himself to change the feelings of someone else, and it is speculated that he may never be strong enough to do so.
And last, but not least, Arthur has your typical ability of telepathy just as any other with psychic powers. His telepathic range is shrunken compared to other telepaths, but this range can be extended and a psychic link can be formed if said person is another telepath in severe emotional distress.
Physical Description: Arthur has always been all bones and angles, tall and svelte--almost like a scarecrow--as though he might snap in half if he were embraced too tightly. The physical advantages of youth have been drained away from him by the emotional demands from his abilities, leaving him prematurely aged. Often, the blunt contrast from black to streaks of gray in his curly hair lead others to think that he has to be at least fifty instead of his mid-thirties. He has faint lines worn into his face that become more apparent when he dons a distraught expression, and often any smiles he manages are meek. The last windows to his childhood--his eyes--were ruined long ago by the onset of glaucoma, leaving them a smokey grey-white, instead of the enticing hazel they were before.
And despite this, Arthur towers over most people at a height of six foot four, a height that most males would strive to accomplish. However, with his almost starved appearance, he seems about as imposing as a sickly, pale willow tree.
While the sharp points of Arthur’s shoulders, ribs, and spine are still apparent, he has obviously improved his eating habits since his absence, upgrading his appearance from a cadaver just slightly. He is still as pale as ever, but the slight change in his weight is a very good improvement for him.
Personality: To put it simply, Arthur is a tender pushover with intellect and lots of tension. He is wound as tight as a coiled spring to keep himself poised and in control of himself with a practiced self-discipline, but at the same time he’s just about as limp as a wet noodle when it comes to standing up for himself.
An intellect by nature, Arthur takes a logical standpoint on most everything, but often his feelings get in the way of things and make him very emotional and high-strung. This mixture makes him astute and selfless at the same time. He would very well put someone else’s needs before his own, and would easily be the first to step up to helping someone with a problem, but not before thinking about how to go about the situation in a reasonable fashion. Arthur is usually the type that one would call a ‘yes-man,’ unable to bring himself to deny a request.
Arthur often tends to dwell upon his past too often and wallow in his own misery while forcing it all in and keeping it too himself. He constantly feels the need to prove his worth, somehow feeling lesser of a man because his eyes no longer work. And it is all too simple to beat down the tiny podium of his self-esteem.
Background: Life for him has been anything but easy. The happiest times he has ever known were his young childhood. He and his family were close, and even at that time he was able to get along with his older brother Tyler without too much trouble. But when he was eight years old, his life was shot to pieces when both his parents were killed in a horrific auto accident, leaving him blind and emotionally scarred. Immediately he and his brother were placed underneath the care of their aunt and uncle, both whom tried to look after their two nephews as though they were their own children since they had none of their own.
His aunt and uncle were polar opposites: his aunt gentle, reasonable, and kind, and his uncle overbearing, old-fashioned, and dominant. Together they made an even harmony, but more often than not Tyler and Arthur had their share of both of them apart, making them into the two very different people they later became. While Arthur drew into himself with a quiet intellect, his brother become brash and adventurous. The years in which he spent with his aunt and uncle were compiled of emotional highs and lows. Between his struggles to adjust to life without seeing and the constant looming of his uncle over his shoulder, Arthur was often distraught.
When he was fourteen his mutation manifested violently when he transferred into a ‘normal’ school. The tension and strain of the change from the sheltered environment for a school for the blind and a public school seemed to awaken his latent powers, and for some time he suffered. For the first time in his life he fell behind in his studies, often bedridden with migraines and sharp flashes and stabbing feelings behind his eyes. If that wasn’t bad enough, he started to hear things even when other people weren’t in the room. They were soft whisperings, like a feather being pressed against his brain and murmuring to him. Completely disregarding the idea of this being a paranormal occurrence, Arthur was quite certain that he was going insane and that his six year old head trauma had damaged more than his sight.
After a few weeks of enduring this terrible shock, a one Charles Xavier appeared at the door of his aunt and uncle’s home. He was offering help and most importantly answers. He wanted to help Arthur control his ‘gifts’ as he called them. It was only through some intense mental training and shaping did Arthur gradually become in control of himself again with the protection of Xavier’s school. But even with all this training he was still at the mercy of the past forces hidden in everything around him. But even so, he tried to move on. Eventually, Arthur attended college received a degree in English literature. It wasn’t what he wanted. But his uncle would have never allowed him to attend a college to pursue his intense musical interest in the piano...
In his mid-twenties Arthur was engaged to a lovely young woman named Jennifer. She was everything he had ever wanted, but things ended badly only weeks before their wedding. Metaphorically blinded by his love for her, Arthur had ignored her antics of going astray with other men, and it was not until she announced that she was leaving him to be with someone else that reality came crashing down onto him. Overcome with distress, Arthur was desperate to leave his life behind him, almost jumping upon the job offer Charles Xavier eventually offered to him as a teacher.
For a time he found solace in his new position, able to bury himself neck-deep in work so that he wouldn’t have to worry about the skeletons festering in the closet. Arthur earned himself a reputation of almost being a ‘workaholic’ with a reclusive streak, and he knew very well what others thought of him.
The following incident at Liberty Island disrupted this unhealthy work ethic, and for the first time he allowed himself to become closer to those around him--but carefully. Stryker’s raid came all too quickly after, occurring during a week of absence Arthur had taken to visit his family and get his head together again. When he returned, everything he loved dear had been destroyed--his books, his classroom... and his piano. The whole thing left him shaken, but at the same time it made him stronger, forcing him to pick up the pieces and help those who were faring off much worse than he. But the tragedy of Jean Grey was not to be so easily forgotten.
The following months put his sanity to the test, and Arthur’s health took a sharp decline as the grief and broken feelings around him took their toll. He could no longer bury himself in his lessons and schoolwork to take his mind away from it. His spirit was growing weaker, as was he, but all the while he kept denying that there was anything wrong with him.
The day the cure was issued Arthur was shoved into the face of reality again, and he had to reevaluate his life. What did he value more? His life, or his independence, however short-lived? It was not until the reemergence of Jean Grey did he make a decision. The emotional and mental impact nearly killed him, putting him in a coma for several hours, and when he awoke Arthur instantly knew what his fate must be.
It was a fleeting departure, and Arthur left just as silently as he had come, telling no one of his intentions until he was well away from the institute by a brief mental link with the Professor. With the aid of his brother, Arthur almost disappeared from existence for some time, attending some much-needed therapy and gaining closure. When his powers reemerged, they did so quietly and gradually, allowing him to adjust to his old life again. But he would never regain all those years he’s lost.. and the youth he has so sorely missed out on.
And after this extended leave of absence, Arthur finally returned, only to be handed the news of Jean Grey’s second tragic death, as well as the death of Scott Summers and the Professor as well. But somehow... he seems to draw on some hidden strength to withstand it, or wanting to prove himself stronger than he was before. Perhaps he would finally get the peace of mind he has always wanted...
Current Affiliation: Xavier Institute Faculty (Not an actual X-Man. He’s just a teacher. He’s too much of a pacifist to even consider that sort of position.)
Sample: (An ‘impossible-ship’ ficlet between Arthur and another one of my OC characters.)
Our Father, who art in Heaven.. hallowed be Thy name.
The bible is shaking beneath the thin grasp of pale, svelte fingers, smooth fingertips running the course of the page over and over. He is taking shallow breaths as he rocks a little on the piano bench, feeling the toes of his shoes repeatedly strike the blunt ends of the pedals, and his heart racing faster and faster.
Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done, in Earth, as it is in Heaven.
This your little hideaway?
Arthur had felt the sultry warmth of a smile, smouldering--husking--peeling back his paper-thin layers of pious protection. Then for a fleeting moment he dared, he dared, oh how he had dared to tread into his nefarious humidity and let everything else all melt away.
Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us.
He had stalled for time, stuttering slightly as the words broke upon his lips and scattered. The answer never came and he chose to shut his mouth completely, rolling his angled shoulders up and letting his brows rise in anticipation. Footsteps had closed in on his right, and he heard them scuffing--scraping--rubbing on the floor, peeling away the finish in minute flakes. Warm fingers had ghosted over the back of his neck, and he stiffened slightly, drawing his breath in sharply. It was wrong. Wrong.
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
Lips brushed tenderly over the slight indention of his mouth. A chuckle rolled deep in a chest, and the space between them swelled again. You think too much.. Arthur had felt the smile, burning away his sheer layers of false security. And he had been tempted, tempted.. But the footsteps turned and walked to the door, warm fingers pulling away from the back of his neck.
For Thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, for ever and ever.
His skin is still burning--scorching--flaming from the shivering traces of the touch of warm fingers. Sin--it screamed, sin--ungodlines--transgression--damnation. And he is still tempted.. so tempted. Shutting the bible quickly and clutching it to his chest, he exhales sharply and bows his head to his chest a, low, whispered breath escaping his trembling lips.
”Amen.”
WESTCHESTER
Having bad computer issues and can’t really log out to make an account. Figured I might as well get the application looked at.)
Name: Arthur Coleman
Codename:
Age: 34
Mutation: After a rather severe concussion that rendered his eyes useless, his mutant genes kicked in during the middle of his mind’s reparation process. Therefore, the nerves replaced and repaired were done so with mutated cells, and his mutation spread rapidly across his mind, enhancing his extrasensory awareness almost tenfold. But, of course, with every great power comes even greater responsibility and consequences. And that was something he had to find out the hard way.
Psychometry is by far his strongest ability. By having his person within a certain range or having direct contact with a living being, place, or object, he is endowed with the ability to ‘read’ the details and past condition of said target. This is done by latent psychic imprints that psionically connect with his own psyche and allow him to ‘view’ these past events or feelings in his minds’ eye. Some things may only allow him flashes and bursts of strong feeling, jumbling memories together to form one big glob of the most dominant emotion or occurrence. However, other things have whole memories that he can absorb in striking detail. And only this allows him to ‘see’. Ever since his bout of freedom with the ‘cure’ and allowing his mind to reorganize itself for a time, Arthur has now somewhat learned to control these abilities that before left him shaking with nightmares and strange phobias from coming into contact with the same memories again and again without being able to block them out. And now each time his skin touches something he won’t have to worry so much about the sharp stabbing or sudden rush of a memory or feeling being forced into his awareness. (Despite this, his hands remain void of fingerprints, since they are his main receivers of directly absorbed imprints.)
This has allowed him to develop a mental depth perception. He allows his mind to reach out to the psychic imprints around him, and depending on how long it takes for these to ‘bounce’ back and register lets him know how far away something is. Though this is not exactly as accurate being able to see these things, and something moving far too quickly for him to register may confuse him. (ex. A bullet, a mutant with superhuman agility.) Arthur will feel the soft feathering of something against his consciousness, but otherwise he won’t be able to grasp a strong enough hold on it.
As if the idea of some places and objects being haunted to him isn’t scary enough, Arthur unfortunately carries the burden of a low-grade empathy. This merely allows him to recognize others by their emotional patterns, ‘feel’ others around him, and quite literally feel what others are feeling. He is far too emotionally shattered himself to change the feelings of someone else, and it is speculated that he may never be strong enough to do so.
And last, but not least, Arthur has your typical ability of telepathy just as any other with psychic powers. His telepathic range is shrunken compared to other telepaths, but this range can be extended and a psychic link can be formed if said person is another telepath in severe emotional distress.
Physical Description: Arthur has always been all bones and angles, tall and svelte--almost like a scarecrow--as though he might snap in half if he were embraced too tightly. The physical advantages of youth have been drained away from him by the emotional demands from his abilities, leaving him prematurely aged. Often, the blunt contrast from black to streaks of gray in his curly hair lead others to think that he has to be at least fifty instead of his mid-thirties. He has faint lines worn into his face that become more apparent when he dons a distraught expression, and often any smiles he manages are meek. The last windows to his childhood--his eyes--were ruined long ago by the onset of glaucoma, leaving them a smokey grey-white, instead of the enticing hazel they were before.
And despite this, Arthur towers over most people at a height of six foot four, a height that most males would strive to accomplish. However, with his almost starved appearance, he seems about as imposing as a sickly, pale willow tree.
While the sharp points of Arthur’s shoulders, ribs, and spine are still apparent, he has obviously improved his eating habits since his absence, upgrading his appearance from a cadaver just slightly. He is still as pale as ever, but the slight change in his weight is a very good improvement for him.
Personality: To put it simply, Arthur is a tender pushover with intellect and lots of tension. He is wound as tight as a coiled spring to keep himself poised and in control of himself with a practiced self-discipline, but at the same time he’s just about as limp as a wet noodle when it comes to standing up for himself.
An intellect by nature, Arthur takes a logical standpoint on most everything, but often his feelings get in the way of things and make him very emotional and high-strung. This mixture makes him astute and selfless at the same time. He would very well put someone else’s needs before his own, and would easily be the first to step up to helping someone with a problem, but not before thinking about how to go about the situation in a reasonable fashion. Arthur is usually the type that one would call a ‘yes-man,’ unable to bring himself to deny a request.
Arthur often tends to dwell upon his past too often and wallow in his own misery while forcing it all in and keeping it too himself. He constantly feels the need to prove his worth, somehow feeling lesser of a man because his eyes no longer work. And it is all too simple to beat down the tiny podium of his self-esteem.
Background: Life for him has been anything but easy. The happiest times he has ever known were his young childhood. He and his family were close, and even at that time he was able to get along with his older brother Tyler without too much trouble. But when he was eight years old, his life was shot to pieces when both his parents were killed in a horrific auto accident, leaving him blind and emotionally scarred. Immediately he and his brother were placed underneath the care of their aunt and uncle, both whom tried to look after their two nephews as though they were their own children since they had none of their own.
His aunt and uncle were polar opposites: his aunt gentle, reasonable, and kind, and his uncle overbearing, old-fashioned, and dominant. Together they made an even harmony, but more often than not Tyler and Arthur had their share of both of them apart, making them into the two very different people they later became. While Arthur drew into himself with a quiet intellect, his brother become brash and adventurous. The years in which he spent with his aunt and uncle were compiled of emotional highs and lows. Between his struggles to adjust to life without seeing and the constant looming of his uncle over his shoulder, Arthur was often distraught.
When he was fourteen his mutation manifested violently when he transferred into a ‘normal’ school. The tension and strain of the change from the sheltered environment for a school for the blind and a public school seemed to awaken his latent powers, and for some time he suffered. For the first time in his life he fell behind in his studies, often bedridden with migraines and sharp flashes and stabbing feelings behind his eyes. If that wasn’t bad enough, he started to hear things even when other people weren’t in the room. They were soft whisperings, like a feather being pressed against his brain and murmuring to him. Completely disregarding the idea of this being a paranormal occurrence, Arthur was quite certain that he was going insane and that his six year old head trauma had damaged more than his sight.
After a few weeks of enduring this terrible shock, a one Charles Xavier appeared at the door of his aunt and uncle’s home. He was offering help and most importantly answers. He wanted to help Arthur control his ‘gifts’ as he called them. It was only through some intense mental training and shaping did Arthur gradually become in control of himself again with the protection of Xavier’s school. But even with all this training he was still at the mercy of the past forces hidden in everything around him. But even so, he tried to move on. Eventually, Arthur attended college received a degree in English literature. It wasn’t what he wanted. But his uncle would have never allowed him to attend a college to pursue his intense musical interest in the piano...
In his mid-twenties Arthur was engaged to a lovely young woman named Jennifer. She was everything he had ever wanted, but things ended badly only weeks before their wedding. Metaphorically blinded by his love for her, Arthur had ignored her antics of going astray with other men, and it was not until she announced that she was leaving him to be with someone else that reality came crashing down onto him. Overcome with distress, Arthur was desperate to leave his life behind him, almost jumping upon the job offer Charles Xavier eventually offered to him as a teacher.
For a time he found solace in his new position, able to bury himself neck-deep in work so that he wouldn’t have to worry about the skeletons festering in the closet. Arthur earned himself a reputation of almost being a ‘workaholic’ with a reclusive streak, and he knew very well what others thought of him.
The following incident at Liberty Island disrupted this unhealthy work ethic, and for the first time he allowed himself to become closer to those around him--but carefully. Stryker’s raid came all too quickly after, occurring during a week of absence Arthur had taken to visit his family and get his head together again. When he returned, everything he loved dear had been destroyed--his books, his classroom... and his piano. The whole thing left him shaken, but at the same time it made him stronger, forcing him to pick up the pieces and help those who were faring off much worse than he. But the tragedy of Jean Grey was not to be so easily forgotten.
The following months put his sanity to the test, and Arthur’s health took a sharp decline as the grief and broken feelings around him took their toll. He could no longer bury himself in his lessons and schoolwork to take his mind away from it. His spirit was growing weaker, as was he, but all the while he kept denying that there was anything wrong with him.
The day the cure was issued Arthur was shoved into the face of reality again, and he had to reevaluate his life. What did he value more? His life, or his independence, however short-lived? It was not until the reemergence of Jean Grey did he make a decision. The emotional and mental impact nearly killed him, putting him in a coma for several hours, and when he awoke Arthur instantly knew what his fate must be.
It was a fleeting departure, and Arthur left just as silently as he had come, telling no one of his intentions until he was well away from the institute by a brief mental link with the Professor. With the aid of his brother, Arthur almost disappeared from existence for some time, attending some much-needed therapy and gaining closure. When his powers reemerged, they did so quietly and gradually, allowing him to adjust to his old life again. But he would never regain all those years he’s lost.. and the youth he has so sorely missed out on.
And after this extended leave of absence, Arthur finally returned, only to be handed the news of Jean Grey’s second tragic death, as well as the death of Scott Summers and the Professor as well. But somehow... he seems to draw on some hidden strength to withstand it, or wanting to prove himself stronger than he was before. Perhaps he would finally get the peace of mind he has always wanted...
Current Affiliation: Xavier Institute Faculty (Not an actual X-Man. He’s just a teacher. He’s too much of a pacifist to even consider that sort of position.)
Sample: (An ‘impossible-ship’ ficlet between Arthur and another one of my OC characters.)
Our Father, who art in Heaven.. hallowed be Thy name.
The bible is shaking beneath the thin grasp of pale, svelte fingers, smooth fingertips running the course of the page over and over. He is taking shallow breaths as he rocks a little on the piano bench, feeling the toes of his shoes repeatedly strike the blunt ends of the pedals, and his heart racing faster and faster.
Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done, in Earth, as it is in Heaven.
This your little hideaway?
Arthur had felt the sultry warmth of a smile, smouldering--husking--peeling back his paper-thin layers of pious protection. Then for a fleeting moment he dared, he dared, oh how he had dared to tread into his nefarious humidity and let everything else all melt away.
Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us.
He had stalled for time, stuttering slightly as the words broke upon his lips and scattered. The answer never came and he chose to shut his mouth completely, rolling his angled shoulders up and letting his brows rise in anticipation. Footsteps had closed in on his right, and he heard them scuffing--scraping--rubbing on the floor, peeling away the finish in minute flakes. Warm fingers had ghosted over the back of his neck, and he stiffened slightly, drawing his breath in sharply. It was wrong. Wrong.
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
Lips brushed tenderly over the slight indention of his mouth. A chuckle rolled deep in a chest, and the space between them swelled again. You think too much.. Arthur had felt the smile, burning away his sheer layers of false security. And he had been tempted, tempted.. But the footsteps turned and walked to the door, warm fingers pulling away from the back of his neck.
For Thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, for ever and ever.
His skin is still burning--scorching--flaming from the shivering traces of the touch of warm fingers. Sin--it screamed, sin--ungodlines--transgression--damnation. And he is still tempted.. so tempted. Shutting the bible quickly and clutching it to his chest, he exhales sharply and bows his head to his chest a, low, whispered breath escaping his trembling lips.
”Amen.”
WESTCHESTER
