Post by Jolt on Jan 27, 2007 23:56:17 GMT
Name: (Full) William “Will” Oedipus Blau-O’Connell (Generally referred to as Will Blau for ease of tongue.)
Codename: Jolt
Age: 19
Mutation: With an almost explosive, unpredictable personality, it seems only fitting that Will should have powers to match. Electrokinesis is his main power, the psionic ability to generate, control, and absorb electricity. In reality, he is simply mentally manipulating electrons across his nervous system at a rapid velocity. (Exactly how this process takes place is relatively unknown, as that would involve cutting him open to find out.) The electricity takes the path of least resistance--his nerves--and is generally released from his hands as a main outlet. His mutation has also given him an immunity to this power, though it has been shown in previous... incidents that he is not completely impervious to electrical energy. (Though obviously it is better than a human’s or most mutants’.)
When said energy is pulsed through his nerves, it illuminates them beneath his skin with a soft blue glow. While it can be a pretty light display if he’s illuminating a hand to light his way, don’t be lulled into a sense of because security of it. Will is capable of rendering powerful blasts of electricity that can reach up to 9,000 volts.
He can also unconsciously drain energy from surrounding electrical sources around him when he’s weak--and not soaking wet. This is done by adjusting his bodily charge to the one around him and allowing his body to attract it. (He usually has a perpetual, positive inner charge.) Will can also release said energy into electrical appliances, but continuously providing energy for long periods of time will exhaust him. Unfortunately, he has a bad habit of rendering pulses of electricity that are too strong into surrounding sources when his emotions are on the fritz, and this can result in imploded lightbulbs and completely unreadable television and radio signals.
Electromagnetism is merely a side effect of his powers. This means that he can give metals a negative or positive charge to attract them to each other or to himself, or repel them from each other or himself. Mind you, this power has never been very reliable, though he has shown precision in fusing doors shut at the hinges...
Obviously, water and electricity don’t get along. Dousing him completely will short-circuit his powers and leave him weak when his body uses energy to absorb the shock. Cold temperatures also reduce the area he can conduct with electricity--explaining why he hates winter. Warm temperatures increases this area, but it can make him a potential danger to friends and enemies alike.
Physical Description: More or less, Will seems to resemble a boxer or some kind of cage fighter in both stature and musculature. He stands at an even, meager five foot five and obviously he hates it. However, he doesn’t let this hinder him in the slightest from keeping his body in check, evident by his high, broad shoulders and stocky appearance. His height usually the first thing people tend to notice about him and most have no problem pointing it out to him. The fact that he doesn't look nineteen isn't any help in this department either.
Coming from a strong Irish line, Will has short, flaming red hair and a reasonably fair complexion that is strangely absent of freckles. His features are sharp--rugged--and he has a prominent jawline that only seems to tighten when he’s annoyed. Though it is not known to the general public, or.. anyone, for that matter, really, Will has significant signs of scarring all up and down his arms and across his shoulders, and, since the Battle at Alcatraz, some on his back, as well as a small scar above his brow. It isn’t that he scars easily, it’s just that he tends to pick battles that he has no chance of winning. Although, as of late, Will has tended to care less about what parts of him people see.
The physically most captivating thing about Will is his eyes. They are an enigma of blues, able to even fluctuate in tune to match the intensity of his powers and the whirlwind of his moods. Usually, they are dark and hard, a sign that he is in his usual antics of being bitter and irritable.
Personality: Savage is one of the nicer ways to put it. Barbaric would be next--although more accurate. He is fairly basic in his antics and is almost like a Neanderthal sometimes, acting on primal instincts rather than logic. This by no means simplifies him, however. Despite his tendency to grunt in response, bark with punctual swearing responses, and usually choosing to take a swing at someone for no specific reason, Will is one of the types that has more to him on the inside--it’s just a matter of anyone getting that far.
Let’s face it, Will has anger management issues. A hot temper runs in his family, and this makes him naturally aggressive in combination with his below average height. Instead of making amends or having a civil tongue, he tends to let his fists, powers, or hisknife glare speak for him. It’s not hard to irritate him, though it is extremely difficult to placate him once he’s riled. The anger has to go somewhere, and usually it comes out in a destructive manner or a self-destructive manner by drinking. This makes him appear cruel and uncaring, and this tends to scare people off from even attempting to talk with him, much less look in his direction. Even with the fact that he’s just barely making it into anyone’s book, Will is picky. He has a paranoia that everyone is going to turn on him one day, and this is evident by the way that he flinches away from touch. He’s certainly the last person who should be choosy about who he lets in, but given his background, who could blame him? If one is able to penetrate this wall of angst and fury, they can be rest assured that they will have a loyal companion for life. But be forewarned, Will doesn’t take to betrayal lightly, and it’s likely that he won’t trust you ever again if you should choose to turn the other cheek.
With the tangled web of his touchy nature, sharp, brutish tongue, he tends to come off as being ‘all brawn and no brains’--he probably could even be a stereotypical jock of he were taller and would ditch theleather jacket and switchblade he has in his back pocket white trash persona he’s created for himself. But Will is by no means stupid. Granted, he is not book smart being a high-school dropout himself, but it would be unwise to insult his intelligence. Will knows how to take care of himself and he doesn’t ‘give a fuck what you know.’
Simplicity and paranoia aside, Will has proven on a few, rare occasions--probably when he was drunk--that he has the potential to be considerate, thoughtful.. and.. godforbid.. affectionate? This side of him is relatively nonexistent, and he certainly isn’t going to let you see it. Will is still wild and raging, like a caged animal, but given time.. he can be tamed--gently.. preferably while he’s under restraint.
Background: He was born out of wedlock in a rather crude part of New York City. His biological parents eventually did marry, but things were always far from easy. Both his parents had alcoholic tendencies, and his father often disappeared for days or even weeks at a time with no indication of where he was going or when he would return. He grew up learning to be the ‘man of the house’, looking after his mother and usually lashing out at anyone that dared to intrude on this simple life.
After a rocky divorce, Will and his mother moved across town to only slightly better accommodations. Four years trudged along slowly, allowing young Will to flex himself a little and attempt to live without the boorish presence of his father. But it was too late to change the dangerous habits he had already picked up from him.
Will’s mother remarried when he was but twelve, bringing in two new additions to the family aside from the loud, obnoxious man Will would have to begrudgingly come to know as his stepfather. In tow with him he brought his equally primitive son Robbie, and also their massive German Shepherd that seemed hellbent on ripping Will to pieces. Ultimately, this became a turning point over the hilltop as everything came crashing down.
He had never been motivated in school, and the shift from junior high to high school seemed to bring out the worst in Will. With all the trouble at home, he grew angrier than ever, launching headfirst into fights with nothing to say for it but ‘fuck you’ as he was dragged away. Threatening him with detention or suspension was useless, and counselors had given up trying to teach him better ways.
Will was fifteen when his mutation manifested violently. As usual, his step-brother was pissing him off, shoving him around, and he’d had enough. So he punched him in the face. The fury alone was enough to awaken his latent abilities, and the second his knuckles grated across the hefty cheekbones of Robbie, they were expelled apart by a powerful shock. Will was alright, burnt at the wrists a little and shaken, but physically intact. Robbie, on the other hand.. was smoking and twitching. And Will did what any kid his age would do--he bolted.
Grimly satisfied, but inwardly scared all the same, Will took to the streets easily, avoiding the authorities like the plague. Sure he had.. one.. or two drinking buddies he could rely on, but it would only last so long, especially considering that he and the latter of his two ‘friends’ became frequently sexually involved--usually when they were plastered. Eventually he’d had enough of that considering that ittechnically made him gay made him question his masculinity ....bothered him.
So, as Will is prone to do, he left without notice, taking with him the meager possessions he owned and his attitude right out the door. Not too long afterwards, his power seemed to catch the eye of a certain Master of Magnetism.
The redhead fell into to the Brotherhood lifestyle easily, taking up the new alias of ‘Jolt’ and using his powers when and where ever he pleased, often at his own expense that usually cost him points with Magneto. He was wild, reckless, and stubborn, unused to any type of strategy when it came to combat and warfare. If he’d followed the path drawn for him, Erik might have liked him better, but instead he became a pawn, despite his powerful addition to the lines at Alcatraz.
Pawns go first, and Will quickly lapsed into his spasmodic way of attacking others after they did. Unfortunately, however, he quickly learned that absorbing the power from surrounding electrical fences and lightning was too much for his system to handle. Coincidentally, he also learned that bullets.. hurt like a bitch.
Over the following months--after being forcefully injected with the Cure--Will was taken captive by the authorities where they proceeded to make his life miserable. Not only had they taken his jacket, his knife, and his powers, they were bordering on taking his dignity as well. And every day began and ended with him cursing Erik Lensherr and his goddamn Brotherhood for leaving him for dead.
Of course, like everyone else, Will’s powers came back. He got the vengeance he wanted on the authorities alright, luckily before they could identify him as his stepbrother’s ‘attacker’. How he really escaped is really a mystery, but the only thing that’s really for certain is that the greaser of the Brotherhood is back and there’s bound to be Hell in his wake.
Current Affiliation:Brotherhood of Evil Mutants Basically unaffiliated. For now.
Sample: Will groans in his sleep as the distant growl of a football game reaches his ears. Hoping to muffle the noise, he yanks his pillow over his head, curling up into a ball. His head is pounding two beats faster than his heart, and the strained light creeping into the room is enough to make him cringe and recoil when he opens his eyes for only a moment, like a wild animal that lived only in darkness and had never seen such a thing as light before.
He doesn’t remember much of the night before. There are only a few blurry, shaking images that didn’t resemble anything that he could feel familiar with. ...god.. what did he do last night? Sitting up slowly, he runs a hand over his face, squinting slightly in the dimly lit room. His shoes and t-shirt had been dumped at the foot of the bed in a heap, and his belt was unfastened, though thankfully his jeans still in their rightful place.
The lurching taste of bile suddenly rises in the back of his throat, and Will mutters and kicks the covers back sluggishly, knowing good and well what was to come. Oh, sure, he’d been hungover many times before, and this most certainly wouldn’t be the last, but no matter how many times he went on a binge and had to pay for it the next day, he never seemed to get used to all the effects.
Stumbling across the carpet as he rises unsteadily to his feet, he traipses ungracefully over to his closet like a drunken, dying swan. Yanking the door open he suddenly snatches a shirt off a hanger without bothering to actually twist it down so it would slip right off. Jerking the neck of the shirt, the hanger snaps back and hits the clothes railing with a loud ‘ping!’, causing Will to growl in response and hold a hand to his head, the shirt clutched in the other.
He yanks the shirt over his head and snaps down the sleeves, not even bothering to put on some shoes while stalking towards the door. He fumbles with the knob, and opens it with barely enough room for him to squeeze out between the doorway and the door. Down the hall he can hear the rising volume of two voices arguing over the roar of the television, and someone else is yelling at them to shut the hell up.
Home sweet home.
WESTCHESTER.
Codename: Jolt
Age: 19
Mutation: With an almost explosive, unpredictable personality, it seems only fitting that Will should have powers to match. Electrokinesis is his main power, the psionic ability to generate, control, and absorb electricity. In reality, he is simply mentally manipulating electrons across his nervous system at a rapid velocity. (Exactly how this process takes place is relatively unknown, as that would involve cutting him open to find out.) The electricity takes the path of least resistance--his nerves--and is generally released from his hands as a main outlet. His mutation has also given him an immunity to this power, though it has been shown in previous... incidents that he is not completely impervious to electrical energy. (Though obviously it is better than a human’s or most mutants’.)
When said energy is pulsed through his nerves, it illuminates them beneath his skin with a soft blue glow. While it can be a pretty light display if he’s illuminating a hand to light his way, don’t be lulled into a sense of because security of it. Will is capable of rendering powerful blasts of electricity that can reach up to 9,000 volts.
He can also unconsciously drain energy from surrounding electrical sources around him when he’s weak--and not soaking wet. This is done by adjusting his bodily charge to the one around him and allowing his body to attract it. (He usually has a perpetual, positive inner charge.) Will can also release said energy into electrical appliances, but continuously providing energy for long periods of time will exhaust him. Unfortunately, he has a bad habit of rendering pulses of electricity that are too strong into surrounding sources when his emotions are on the fritz, and this can result in imploded lightbulbs and completely unreadable television and radio signals.
Electromagnetism is merely a side effect of his powers. This means that he can give metals a negative or positive charge to attract them to each other or to himself, or repel them from each other or himself. Mind you, this power has never been very reliable, though he has shown precision in fusing doors shut at the hinges...
Obviously, water and electricity don’t get along. Dousing him completely will short-circuit his powers and leave him weak when his body uses energy to absorb the shock. Cold temperatures also reduce the area he can conduct with electricity--explaining why he hates winter. Warm temperatures increases this area, but it can make him a potential danger to friends and enemies alike.
Physical Description: More or less, Will seems to resemble a boxer or some kind of cage fighter in both stature and musculature. He stands at an even, meager five foot five and obviously he hates it. However, he doesn’t let this hinder him in the slightest from keeping his body in check, evident by his high, broad shoulders and stocky appearance. His height usually the first thing people tend to notice about him and most have no problem pointing it out to him. The fact that he doesn't look nineteen isn't any help in this department either.
Coming from a strong Irish line, Will has short, flaming red hair and a reasonably fair complexion that is strangely absent of freckles. His features are sharp--rugged--and he has a prominent jawline that only seems to tighten when he’s annoyed. Though it is not known to the general public, or.. anyone, for that matter, really, Will has significant signs of scarring all up and down his arms and across his shoulders, and, since the Battle at Alcatraz, some on his back, as well as a small scar above his brow. It isn’t that he scars easily, it’s just that he tends to pick battles that he has no chance of winning. Although, as of late, Will has tended to care less about what parts of him people see.
The physically most captivating thing about Will is his eyes. They are an enigma of blues, able to even fluctuate in tune to match the intensity of his powers and the whirlwind of his moods. Usually, they are dark and hard, a sign that he is in his usual antics of being bitter and irritable.
Personality: Savage is one of the nicer ways to put it. Barbaric would be next--although more accurate. He is fairly basic in his antics and is almost like a Neanderthal sometimes, acting on primal instincts rather than logic. This by no means simplifies him, however. Despite his tendency to grunt in response, bark with punctual swearing responses, and usually choosing to take a swing at someone for no specific reason, Will is one of the types that has more to him on the inside--it’s just a matter of anyone getting that far.
Let’s face it, Will has anger management issues. A hot temper runs in his family, and this makes him naturally aggressive in combination with his below average height. Instead of making amends or having a civil tongue, he tends to let his fists, powers, or his
With the tangled web of his touchy nature, sharp, brutish tongue, he tends to come off as being ‘all brawn and no brains’--he probably could even be a stereotypical jock of he were taller and would ditch the
Simplicity and paranoia aside, Will has proven on a few, rare occasions--probably when he was drunk--that he has the potential to be considerate, thoughtful.. and.. godforbid.. affectionate? This side of him is relatively nonexistent, and he certainly isn’t going to let you see it. Will is still wild and raging, like a caged animal, but given time.. he can be tamed--gently.. preferably while he’s under restraint.
Background: He was born out of wedlock in a rather crude part of New York City. His biological parents eventually did marry, but things were always far from easy. Both his parents had alcoholic tendencies, and his father often disappeared for days or even weeks at a time with no indication of where he was going or when he would return. He grew up learning to be the ‘man of the house’, looking after his mother and usually lashing out at anyone that dared to intrude on this simple life.
After a rocky divorce, Will and his mother moved across town to only slightly better accommodations. Four years trudged along slowly, allowing young Will to flex himself a little and attempt to live without the boorish presence of his father. But it was too late to change the dangerous habits he had already picked up from him.
Will’s mother remarried when he was but twelve, bringing in two new additions to the family aside from the loud, obnoxious man Will would have to begrudgingly come to know as his stepfather. In tow with him he brought his equally primitive son Robbie, and also their massive German Shepherd that seemed hellbent on ripping Will to pieces. Ultimately, this became a turning point over the hilltop as everything came crashing down.
He had never been motivated in school, and the shift from junior high to high school seemed to bring out the worst in Will. With all the trouble at home, he grew angrier than ever, launching headfirst into fights with nothing to say for it but ‘fuck you’ as he was dragged away. Threatening him with detention or suspension was useless, and counselors had given up trying to teach him better ways.
Will was fifteen when his mutation manifested violently. As usual, his step-brother was pissing him off, shoving him around, and he’d had enough. So he punched him in the face. The fury alone was enough to awaken his latent abilities, and the second his knuckles grated across the hefty cheekbones of Robbie, they were expelled apart by a powerful shock. Will was alright, burnt at the wrists a little and shaken, but physically intact. Robbie, on the other hand.. was smoking and twitching. And Will did what any kid his age would do--he bolted.
Grimly satisfied, but inwardly scared all the same, Will took to the streets easily, avoiding the authorities like the plague. Sure he had.. one.. or two drinking buddies he could rely on, but it would only last so long, especially considering that he and the latter of his two ‘friends’ became frequently sexually involved--usually when they were plastered. Eventually he’d had enough of that considering that it
So, as Will is prone to do, he left without notice, taking with him the meager possessions he owned and his attitude right out the door. Not too long afterwards, his power seemed to catch the eye of a certain Master of Magnetism.
The redhead fell into to the Brotherhood lifestyle easily, taking up the new alias of ‘Jolt’ and using his powers when and where ever he pleased, often at his own expense that usually cost him points with Magneto. He was wild, reckless, and stubborn, unused to any type of strategy when it came to combat and warfare. If he’d followed the path drawn for him, Erik might have liked him better, but instead he became a pawn, despite his powerful addition to the lines at Alcatraz.
Pawns go first, and Will quickly lapsed into his spasmodic way of attacking others after they did. Unfortunately, however, he quickly learned that absorbing the power from surrounding electrical fences and lightning was too much for his system to handle. Coincidentally, he also learned that bullets.. hurt like a bitch.
Over the following months--after being forcefully injected with the Cure--Will was taken captive by the authorities where they proceeded to make his life miserable. Not only had they taken his jacket, his knife, and his powers, they were bordering on taking his dignity as well. And every day began and ended with him cursing Erik Lensherr and his goddamn Brotherhood for leaving him for dead.
Of course, like everyone else, Will’s powers came back. He got the vengeance he wanted on the authorities alright, luckily before they could identify him as his stepbrother’s ‘attacker’. How he really escaped is really a mystery, but the only thing that’s really for certain is that the greaser of the Brotherhood is back and there’s bound to be Hell in his wake.
Current Affiliation:
Sample: Will groans in his sleep as the distant growl of a football game reaches his ears. Hoping to muffle the noise, he yanks his pillow over his head, curling up into a ball. His head is pounding two beats faster than his heart, and the strained light creeping into the room is enough to make him cringe and recoil when he opens his eyes for only a moment, like a wild animal that lived only in darkness and had never seen such a thing as light before.
He doesn’t remember much of the night before. There are only a few blurry, shaking images that didn’t resemble anything that he could feel familiar with. ...god.. what did he do last night? Sitting up slowly, he runs a hand over his face, squinting slightly in the dimly lit room. His shoes and t-shirt had been dumped at the foot of the bed in a heap, and his belt was unfastened, though thankfully his jeans still in their rightful place.
The lurching taste of bile suddenly rises in the back of his throat, and Will mutters and kicks the covers back sluggishly, knowing good and well what was to come. Oh, sure, he’d been hungover many times before, and this most certainly wouldn’t be the last, but no matter how many times he went on a binge and had to pay for it the next day, he never seemed to get used to all the effects.
Stumbling across the carpet as he rises unsteadily to his feet, he traipses ungracefully over to his closet like a drunken, dying swan. Yanking the door open he suddenly snatches a shirt off a hanger without bothering to actually twist it down so it would slip right off. Jerking the neck of the shirt, the hanger snaps back and hits the clothes railing with a loud ‘ping!’, causing Will to growl in response and hold a hand to his head, the shirt clutched in the other.
He yanks the shirt over his head and snaps down the sleeves, not even bothering to put on some shoes while stalking towards the door. He fumbles with the knob, and opens it with barely enough room for him to squeeze out between the doorway and the door. Down the hall he can hear the rising volume of two voices arguing over the roar of the television, and someone else is yelling at them to shut the hell up.
Home sweet home.
WESTCHESTER.
