Post by Silas Ambrose on May 25, 2007 3:25:14 GMT
((Just so y'all know, this is a Tobias Alt.))
Name:
(Dr.) Silas Jeremiah Ambrose
Codename:
Intel
Age:
23 (this coming June)
Mutation:
Eidetic Memory AND Innate Capability. Eidetic Memory results in Silas remembering nearly everything he has ever seen, heard, read, felt, smelt, dreamed, thought, etc. To date, the only thing he can't remember are the two days after his birth. After that, his mind is like an easily-accessible data bank. This also allows for him to read and memorize things extremely quickly, for example, he read the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy and had the entire book memorized in just under an hour. Given a few hours and a dictionary...well, the results speak for themselves. Then comes the Innate Capability. This allows Silas to instantly master the use of most technologies, machines, tools, and weapons with just a touch. Now, without the Eidetic Memory, he would forget how to use those things the moment he let go or broke contact with the afore mentioned items, but being able to remember everything, it does make him fairly proficient with a number of things. But there is a limit of sorts: with computers and simple objects. He will know how it works, as in parts, operation, and maintenance, but will be clueless as to file locations, various hacking methods, etc. And for simple objects, like swords, he will know how to maintain it and the proper way to use it, but as for the physical prowess and dexterity needed, he would have to train to match what is needed...like knowing how to be an expert marksman, but having a novice's aim. However, still being able to know exploitable flaws and other such things with machinery is a blessing at times. But just to reiterate it, he by no means has cyberpathy.
Physical Description:
Silas is a semi-tall Caucasian young man, standing at about 6 feet 5 inches. He is not overly muscular, but has a noticeable tone and form. Silas has a healthy skin tone and has a clear complexion. He has short, dark-brown hair left unstyled just above his forehead, and sideburns that trail down to almost characteristic stubble on his neck/chin/face. His eyes are a deep, dark brown and an unremarkable face shape.
Standard wear for Silas would be a nice, clean pair of black pants, a fine pair of black leather shoes, a simple black leather belt with a silver buckle, a black semi-tight hooded sweatshirt covered by a (in his opinion) stylish black overcoat that hangs to just below his waist and always zipped up so that the only hint of the hoodie's existence is the hood itself resting behind Silas' neck. In warmer temperatures, he would unzip the coat and probably wear a t-shirt of sorts underneath. Rule of thumb: The coat stays.
Personality:
Silas, due to his 'gift', can be both a know-it-all and smart ass at times. Generally he attempts not to blurt out answers to any questions asked, (addressed to him or otherwise), while at other times he simply enjoys knowing that he is smarter than most other people. He enjoys watching others learn, and is actually delighted at times where he DOESN'T know the answer. Its at these other times that he remembers what a burden it is to remember every detail about everything etc, that he has experienced.
As for social matters, romance is fairly low on his priority list due to his past track record. Through life, naturally, he was the nerd. The person who always turned in tests first, perhaps an hour before anyone else, and aced every test that came his way. Naturally, every nerd girl flocked to him...but even he has his standards. Generally, he is a calm, collected, but fun loving individual. But, (yes, the over-used but), piss him off by either: hurting him, hurting someone he cares about, generally being a dipshit, and he would likely hurt you. As such, Hell for him would be being stuck at a hick family reunion in Alabama full of Confederate Flags and ignorance.
Some other personality quirks are: He enjoys music of all kinds excepting metal and rap, he knows how to play most instruments, he works out regularly so that he retains the physical ability to use his knowledge, if he is not eating, sleeping, working, or exercising, he is reading, his record for reading a 700+ page book with memorization is in the 3 hour range, his favorite music type is Ska, he views himself as an accomplished chef, and his current most hated people on earth are the government media censors.
Background:
Silas Jeremiah Ambrose is the eldest son of Judy and Hank Ambrose of Massachusetts, born on June 6, 1984. Hank was a professor of Law at Harvard, where Silas would later study. Silas has two younger brothers: Noah and Abe. The Ambrose family lived just off campus and often interacted with the University, pushing Silas to use his ability starting at an extremely early age. The Ambrose family was an average family in every way...except for Silas, the prodigy.
Silas' mutation surfaced at about six months old, at which point he began to stumble to his feet, and eventually begin walking within weeks afterward. He was reading by 15 months, and could speak using proper sentence and structure and grammar at age 2 and 7 months. His parents, unaware of the X-Gene, simply thought that their first born was an "unholy hybrid of prodigy, genius, and savant," -Hank Ambrose, spoken with pride and humor when asked about his son.
Silas flew through school extremely quickly, always reading, learning, and surpassing children even 10 years older than him. Breaking all records and stunning the admittance board, Silas was admitted to Harvard University when he was 12 years old. Over the next 10 years, Silas would carpool with his father to the University, go to his classes, study in his father's office after the lectures were over, and eventually pass every class he ever applied in with flying colors. It wasn't until he was sixteen that the second part of his mutation surfaced: the innate capability. Just before enrolling in driver's ed, he laid his hand on his father's car before opening it, and his eyes went wide for only a moment, but in that moment, he simply KNEW the car: parts, assembly, and even that the speed gage was inaccurate by two miles fast because the mechanics that controlled it were improperly tuned and could be fixed by loosening the controlling bolt with one-quarter rotation.
That was subsequently followed by, "Holy shit!"
After that, the same experience occurred with almost every inorganic thing he touched. Combined with his memory, he was able to memorize Beethoven's 9th Symphony sheet music, strum every note on a piano while naming them to make it easier to match with the music, then play it quickly...stumbling over his own fingers once or twice. A few more practices, and he had mastered it.
Needless to say, he nearly shat himself.
The next six years were spent earning doctorates in several fields: physics, psychology, radiology, law, etc, while also constantly learning about how to use everything he touched, (most annoying were watches due to all of the different models), before finally realizing that if he stayed at Harvard, he would spend the rest of his life becoming a human encyclopedia. It was also at this point that Silas analyzed his own DNA, and found that he was a mutant.
Also, with the recent Alcatraz incident, he feared his family might suspect something, so Silas looked into a teaching position...at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters.
Current Affiliation
Xavier Institute Faculty Applicant
Sample:
It is late night/early morning in Boston. The streets are nearly deserted, and despite the brisk coastal air, one of the lone individuals near Beacon Hill finds it quite pleasant. It is a man in his early twenties, short brown hair, black coat, pants, and shoes, walking slowly and aimlessly on the sidewalks. He is in Boston to wait for his flight, but is suffering from a light case of insomnia. Perhaps it is just nerves, as Silas rarely leaves Massachusetts, or something else. But whatever the reason, Silas is up, and roaming.
He pulls his hand from his pocket, and glances at the small, red, LED screen of his wristwatch. It read 3:33. A witching hour of sorts. Silas sighs, tired, and puts his hand back into his pocket as he rounds a corner. He remembers when he first bought the watch, how its design, creation, and workings flashed and implanted themselves into his mind. He had gotten used to it by this point, but it still sent a shiver down his spine.
He continues walking slowly, passing a closed bank, the ATM machine glowing in the dark. Just after he passes it, he hears the sound of a car brake to a stop behind him. The engine does not stop, but sliding doors open and Silas hears three sets of footsteps land on the ground behind him. This all happens just as Silas rounds the corner, where he stays, and listens. Common sense says that he should keep walking, but something in the back of his head screams at him to stay...that, and it does not take a super-genius to piece together: night, van, running engine, bank, three men...*click*...and the sound of weapons...actually by the sound of it, an AK-47, a Desert Eagle, and a Walther P2K.
...Oh hell no...
Silas presses himself against the wall, and looks over the edge in time to see the three robbers hack their way into the Bank's security system, and go quickly into the bank. There is a lone driver in the van, a black, stereotypical Chevy with a fair amount of carrying capacity, and Silas realizes that he does not have his cell phone, and even if he sprinted to get someone's attention and make the call, the authorities would not make it there in time to stop these men.
Shit.
Silas closes his eyes, and attempts to think of some course of action. He opens his eyes, facing the sidewalk, and notices a small rock at his feet. Not having to look, he knows that the engine is quiet enough, and the van's doors are open. Perfect distraction conditions. Silas picks up the rock, and peeks over the edge once more, before tossing the rock rather hardly at the entrance of the bank. It hits with a fairly audible 'click' and within seconds, the driver steps out of the van, a Glock extended. He moves toward the entrance of the bank, all the while Silas removes his shoes, leaving him in black socks. Now effectively muted, he sprints toward the driver with surprising speed, and leaps to extend his leg when he silently draws close.
178 pounds of man concentrated in a foot at about 17 mph hitting a man in the back is both painful, and disarming. Silas has studied a few of the martial arts, and he had mastered them quickly, but it had still taken months of physical training and practice to be able to perform them. Before the would-be driver reach his weapon, Silas kneels and picks up the Glock, and pistol-whips the man in the back of the head, while the mechanics, calibration, and use of the weapon send a chill through his body.
Exactly one minute and 24 seconds has passed since the trio of thieves entered the bank, and Silas continues to move quickly in case they should return. First off, he rushes to the van, and opens the hood to look at the engine. As he grabs the car, his mutation kicks in, and he knows what to look for. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, Swiss Army knife. Immediately, the mutant cuts a few cords, spilling oil, fuel, and brake fluid onto his hands...but not the coat. He hears the trio coming back from the bank, and he closes the van's hood and searches the downed member of the group. Pausing a second to wipe his hands on the man's body, he searches through his pockets, and pulls out what he was looking for: A Cingular Ericsson cell phone, unlocked and fully charged. The sensation of awareness rushes through Silas' brain, as he dials the famous number:
911
While he does this, he raises the Glock and disarms the safety, aiming it at the oncoming trio. Before the officer on the other end answered, the trio came into view, all three holding large burlap sacks filled with stolen money. Silas sighs, as the idiots DID remember to disable the security systems, but got so cocky that they chose not to always hold their weapons or have a point-man. Still without an answer on the other end, Silas says loudly enough for the thieves to hear, "Drop the money, and your weapons. Your driver is incapacitated, and I have his gun pointed at you."
Silas' eyes are cold, but his heart is racing and adrenaline is coursing through his veins. The thieves make a smart decision for once, and drop both their loot, and their weapons, going so far as to kick them away. Just in time for the operator to answer.
"911 Emergency, what's your problem?"
Silas smiled slightly and replied, "I'd like to report a failed robbery, four armed men, one unconscious at the 3rd National bank on Beacon Hill. I have the three remaining gunmen disarmed and would like some police assistance, as I would like to go home."
The paper the next day reads, "Good Samaritan Foils Robbery, Remains Anonymous." Silas chuckles as he folds the paper up, and glances out the window as his plane takes off from the runway.
WESTCHESTER
Name:
(Dr.) Silas Jeremiah Ambrose
Codename:
Intel
Age:
23 (this coming June)
Mutation:
Eidetic Memory AND Innate Capability. Eidetic Memory results in Silas remembering nearly everything he has ever seen, heard, read, felt, smelt, dreamed, thought, etc. To date, the only thing he can't remember are the two days after his birth. After that, his mind is like an easily-accessible data bank. This also allows for him to read and memorize things extremely quickly, for example, he read the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy and had the entire book memorized in just under an hour. Given a few hours and a dictionary...well, the results speak for themselves. Then comes the Innate Capability. This allows Silas to instantly master the use of most technologies, machines, tools, and weapons with just a touch. Now, without the Eidetic Memory, he would forget how to use those things the moment he let go or broke contact with the afore mentioned items, but being able to remember everything, it does make him fairly proficient with a number of things. But there is a limit of sorts: with computers and simple objects. He will know how it works, as in parts, operation, and maintenance, but will be clueless as to file locations, various hacking methods, etc. And for simple objects, like swords, he will know how to maintain it and the proper way to use it, but as for the physical prowess and dexterity needed, he would have to train to match what is needed...like knowing how to be an expert marksman, but having a novice's aim. However, still being able to know exploitable flaws and other such things with machinery is a blessing at times. But just to reiterate it, he by no means has cyberpathy.
Physical Description:
Silas is a semi-tall Caucasian young man, standing at about 6 feet 5 inches. He is not overly muscular, but has a noticeable tone and form. Silas has a healthy skin tone and has a clear complexion. He has short, dark-brown hair left unstyled just above his forehead, and sideburns that trail down to almost characteristic stubble on his neck/chin/face. His eyes are a deep, dark brown and an unremarkable face shape.
Standard wear for Silas would be a nice, clean pair of black pants, a fine pair of black leather shoes, a simple black leather belt with a silver buckle, a black semi-tight hooded sweatshirt covered by a (in his opinion) stylish black overcoat that hangs to just below his waist and always zipped up so that the only hint of the hoodie's existence is the hood itself resting behind Silas' neck. In warmer temperatures, he would unzip the coat and probably wear a t-shirt of sorts underneath. Rule of thumb: The coat stays.
Personality:
Silas, due to his 'gift', can be both a know-it-all and smart ass at times. Generally he attempts not to blurt out answers to any questions asked, (addressed to him or otherwise), while at other times he simply enjoys knowing that he is smarter than most other people. He enjoys watching others learn, and is actually delighted at times where he DOESN'T know the answer. Its at these other times that he remembers what a burden it is to remember every detail about everything etc, that he has experienced.
As for social matters, romance is fairly low on his priority list due to his past track record. Through life, naturally, he was the nerd. The person who always turned in tests first, perhaps an hour before anyone else, and aced every test that came his way. Naturally, every nerd girl flocked to him...but even he has his standards. Generally, he is a calm, collected, but fun loving individual. But, (yes, the over-used but), piss him off by either: hurting him, hurting someone he cares about, generally being a dipshit, and he would likely hurt you. As such, Hell for him would be being stuck at a hick family reunion in Alabama full of Confederate Flags and ignorance.
Some other personality quirks are: He enjoys music of all kinds excepting metal and rap, he knows how to play most instruments, he works out regularly so that he retains the physical ability to use his knowledge, if he is not eating, sleeping, working, or exercising, he is reading, his record for reading a 700+ page book with memorization is in the 3 hour range, his favorite music type is Ska, he views himself as an accomplished chef, and his current most hated people on earth are the government media censors.
Background:
Silas Jeremiah Ambrose is the eldest son of Judy and Hank Ambrose of Massachusetts, born on June 6, 1984. Hank was a professor of Law at Harvard, where Silas would later study. Silas has two younger brothers: Noah and Abe. The Ambrose family lived just off campus and often interacted with the University, pushing Silas to use his ability starting at an extremely early age. The Ambrose family was an average family in every way...except for Silas, the prodigy.
Silas' mutation surfaced at about six months old, at which point he began to stumble to his feet, and eventually begin walking within weeks afterward. He was reading by 15 months, and could speak using proper sentence and structure and grammar at age 2 and 7 months. His parents, unaware of the X-Gene, simply thought that their first born was an "unholy hybrid of prodigy, genius, and savant," -Hank Ambrose, spoken with pride and humor when asked about his son.
Silas flew through school extremely quickly, always reading, learning, and surpassing children even 10 years older than him. Breaking all records and stunning the admittance board, Silas was admitted to Harvard University when he was 12 years old. Over the next 10 years, Silas would carpool with his father to the University, go to his classes, study in his father's office after the lectures were over, and eventually pass every class he ever applied in with flying colors. It wasn't until he was sixteen that the second part of his mutation surfaced: the innate capability. Just before enrolling in driver's ed, he laid his hand on his father's car before opening it, and his eyes went wide for only a moment, but in that moment, he simply KNEW the car: parts, assembly, and even that the speed gage was inaccurate by two miles fast because the mechanics that controlled it were improperly tuned and could be fixed by loosening the controlling bolt with one-quarter rotation.
That was subsequently followed by, "Holy shit!"
After that, the same experience occurred with almost every inorganic thing he touched. Combined with his memory, he was able to memorize Beethoven's 9th Symphony sheet music, strum every note on a piano while naming them to make it easier to match with the music, then play it quickly...stumbling over his own fingers once or twice. A few more practices, and he had mastered it.
Needless to say, he nearly shat himself.
The next six years were spent earning doctorates in several fields: physics, psychology, radiology, law, etc, while also constantly learning about how to use everything he touched, (most annoying were watches due to all of the different models), before finally realizing that if he stayed at Harvard, he would spend the rest of his life becoming a human encyclopedia. It was also at this point that Silas analyzed his own DNA, and found that he was a mutant.
Also, with the recent Alcatraz incident, he feared his family might suspect something, so Silas looked into a teaching position...at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters.
Current Affiliation
Xavier Institute Faculty Applicant
Sample:
It is late night/early morning in Boston. The streets are nearly deserted, and despite the brisk coastal air, one of the lone individuals near Beacon Hill finds it quite pleasant. It is a man in his early twenties, short brown hair, black coat, pants, and shoes, walking slowly and aimlessly on the sidewalks. He is in Boston to wait for his flight, but is suffering from a light case of insomnia. Perhaps it is just nerves, as Silas rarely leaves Massachusetts, or something else. But whatever the reason, Silas is up, and roaming.
He pulls his hand from his pocket, and glances at the small, red, LED screen of his wristwatch. It read 3:33. A witching hour of sorts. Silas sighs, tired, and puts his hand back into his pocket as he rounds a corner. He remembers when he first bought the watch, how its design, creation, and workings flashed and implanted themselves into his mind. He had gotten used to it by this point, but it still sent a shiver down his spine.
He continues walking slowly, passing a closed bank, the ATM machine glowing in the dark. Just after he passes it, he hears the sound of a car brake to a stop behind him. The engine does not stop, but sliding doors open and Silas hears three sets of footsteps land on the ground behind him. This all happens just as Silas rounds the corner, where he stays, and listens. Common sense says that he should keep walking, but something in the back of his head screams at him to stay...that, and it does not take a super-genius to piece together: night, van, running engine, bank, three men...*click*...and the sound of weapons...actually by the sound of it, an AK-47, a Desert Eagle, and a Walther P2K.
...Oh hell no...
Silas presses himself against the wall, and looks over the edge in time to see the three robbers hack their way into the Bank's security system, and go quickly into the bank. There is a lone driver in the van, a black, stereotypical Chevy with a fair amount of carrying capacity, and Silas realizes that he does not have his cell phone, and even if he sprinted to get someone's attention and make the call, the authorities would not make it there in time to stop these men.
Shit.
Silas closes his eyes, and attempts to think of some course of action. He opens his eyes, facing the sidewalk, and notices a small rock at his feet. Not having to look, he knows that the engine is quiet enough, and the van's doors are open. Perfect distraction conditions. Silas picks up the rock, and peeks over the edge once more, before tossing the rock rather hardly at the entrance of the bank. It hits with a fairly audible 'click' and within seconds, the driver steps out of the van, a Glock extended. He moves toward the entrance of the bank, all the while Silas removes his shoes, leaving him in black socks. Now effectively muted, he sprints toward the driver with surprising speed, and leaps to extend his leg when he silently draws close.
178 pounds of man concentrated in a foot at about 17 mph hitting a man in the back is both painful, and disarming. Silas has studied a few of the martial arts, and he had mastered them quickly, but it had still taken months of physical training and practice to be able to perform them. Before the would-be driver reach his weapon, Silas kneels and picks up the Glock, and pistol-whips the man in the back of the head, while the mechanics, calibration, and use of the weapon send a chill through his body.
Exactly one minute and 24 seconds has passed since the trio of thieves entered the bank, and Silas continues to move quickly in case they should return. First off, he rushes to the van, and opens the hood to look at the engine. As he grabs the car, his mutation kicks in, and he knows what to look for. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, Swiss Army knife. Immediately, the mutant cuts a few cords, spilling oil, fuel, and brake fluid onto his hands...but not the coat. He hears the trio coming back from the bank, and he closes the van's hood and searches the downed member of the group. Pausing a second to wipe his hands on the man's body, he searches through his pockets, and pulls out what he was looking for: A Cingular Ericsson cell phone, unlocked and fully charged. The sensation of awareness rushes through Silas' brain, as he dials the famous number:
911
While he does this, he raises the Glock and disarms the safety, aiming it at the oncoming trio. Before the officer on the other end answered, the trio came into view, all three holding large burlap sacks filled with stolen money. Silas sighs, as the idiots DID remember to disable the security systems, but got so cocky that they chose not to always hold their weapons or have a point-man. Still without an answer on the other end, Silas says loudly enough for the thieves to hear, "Drop the money, and your weapons. Your driver is incapacitated, and I have his gun pointed at you."
Silas' eyes are cold, but his heart is racing and adrenaline is coursing through his veins. The thieves make a smart decision for once, and drop both their loot, and their weapons, going so far as to kick them away. Just in time for the operator to answer.
"911 Emergency, what's your problem?"
Silas smiled slightly and replied, "I'd like to report a failed robbery, four armed men, one unconscious at the 3rd National bank on Beacon Hill. I have the three remaining gunmen disarmed and would like some police assistance, as I would like to go home."
The paper the next day reads, "Good Samaritan Foils Robbery, Remains Anonymous." Silas chuckles as he folds the paper up, and glances out the window as his plane takes off from the runway.
WESTCHESTER
