Blaise Stafford
Feb 20, 2014 13:08:40 GMT -5
Post by Blaise Stafford on Feb 20, 2014 13:08:40 GMT -5
The Basics
Name: Blaise Albert Stafford
Nicknames: None
Age: 17
Orientation: Heterosexual
Desired Rank/Job: New Transfer
Powers: Venomancy - Can secrete a nearly untraceable venomous substance transdermally. Generally the venom results in sickness, depending the amount of exposure. It causes everything from nausea to dizziness, to vomiting, and can take effect (he's found) as soon as 10 minutes in. However, when he manifests the toxin, it always effects him a bit as well. Putting down too much of it will get him sick because, while his own immune system has built up a defense, he isn't entirely resistant, himself. The toxin is not directly lethal.
Through study, it has been found to be similar in effect to Atropa Belladonna. He carries an antitoxin around with him, a variation on a belladonna remedy formulated specifically for his own toxin. The school had been provided with a supply of it, as well as the recipe, upon his arrival.
Play By: Rupert Friend
The Details
Hair Color: Blonde(Natural Brunette)
Eye Color: Blue
Any Piercings? N/A
Any Tattoos? N/A
Any Scars? He has a few burns on his skin from frequent secretion, or little discolored spots, particularly on his hands.
General Appearance: Blaise had always been told he was an early bloomer. In emotional maturity, and in physical maturity. He's quite tall, standing at 6'1", with broad shoulders and strong features. His eyes are pale and his brow thick, leading down to sharp cheekbones and a squared, angular jaw. There was never any question (at least, as far as Blaise was concerned) about his own handsomeness, and he rarely ever allows that sense of appearance to go unattended. His blonde hair is almost always carefully combed or slicked back, due to the amount of time he spends on it each morning. Even his eyebrows don't go un-shaped.
He dresses quite well most of the time, casually wearing slacks, long-sleeved shirts or polos. Again, he views the way he dresses as an extension of his demeanor, and the way that others him is quite important in Blaise's mind. So you won't catch him wandering around in his pajamas, or wearing hoodies, or most anything worn or torn.
Personality: There are many personality traits that make up Blaise. When it comes to his perception of himself, he would say: Cunning, Elite, Entitled, Responsive, Professional, and Deadly. Objectively, however, he's quite self-involved. Blaise's self is his first concern, followed by his reputation, and then the reputation of his family. While he's actually a very intelligent and clever man, due in large to his upbringing, he's incredibly self-absorbed and quite often moved easily to anger, or even violence when his reputation or ability is questioned.
Though for all his cleverness, he is quite easily swayed by mortal pleasures. Be it women, alcohol or other fun things, he's quite easy to manipulate, and he's a weak, weak man when it comes to saying no to certain temptations.
Vice aside, however, he's usually a very driven man, who has known where he was going to be from the start and most everything he does is a step towards those means.
Despite his many negativities, however, Blaise has a strong heart for his loved ones, and he will fiercely defend this loyalty. It's a dangerous thing, becoming the enemy of his friend, nearly as dangerous as becoming his own enemy. His intelligence, his cleverness, he will utilize these skills of his and meet his ends; be they the defense of a friend or the displacement of an opponent. Or at the very least, he'll try. And quite often, his confidence and certainty in himself is his most dangerous weapon.
Your Vices
Likes: Success, Superiority, Praise, Women
Dislikes: Naggy Peasants, Bad Clothes
Strengths: Business savvy, Cuthroatedness, Man-With-The-Plan
Weaknesses: Easily moved to anger, Self-absorbed, Cold
Fears: Heights make him absolutely panic.
Family Ties
Father: Edward Stafford
Mother: Diana Stafford
Siblings: Chandler Stafford, Blair Stafford, Sophie Stafford,
Any Other Important People: The Stafford family has ties all throughout the industry, being the controllers of one of the largest multinational private oil companies today. Blaise, in-turn as heir, has met many of them personally, introduced to him at dinners, et cetera. There are only a couple that he can actually call 'connections', thus far.
History
Blaise was born in the town of Beaconsfield, in Buckinghamshire, England. It was a nice place to grow up and where he was located, pleasant and fairly quiet. By the time of his 6th birthday, he knew exactly what he was supposed to do with his life. He was the heir to the Stafford name, the one who was supposed to eventually do what his father did when he died. But knowing what a strong man Edward Stafford was, it seemed an impossible thought throughout Blaise's childhood that he could actually die. Still, he treated his eventual position as an inevitability, taking full advantage of every resource his parents threw at him. Studies weren't always fun, and when he didn't take them seriously, father's cane and a sore rear-end was enough to get his mind back on track immediately, until his mind wasn't wandering at all.
That cane and some harsh talking-to did develop him as a child, but it tended to train-out his kindness. His brother, when they were both quite young, were inseparably close. They'd run and play and explore their estates, wherever they may be. But on the day of his 10th birthday, when the tutors started cracking down on him and his father, especially, he had less and less time to spend with Chandler, until he couldn't even spare a moment out of the day. By the time he was 11, he had no interest whatsoever in playing with Chandler, or in most any childish pursuit. Because that was exactly what Chandler was: A child.
He was 12 when he manifested. Suddenly, he was getting sick more often, vomiting or passing out. He saw the hospital quite regularly for a little while there, as the sickness seemed to be entirely random. The doctors weren't sure about what to do, or whether to release him. The most confusing part of it all was the discharge he was almost constantly putting out. He was naturally developing a toxin that was threatening his life.
It was strange, this time he spent in bed. Two full week, as he was informed. He was oddly appreciative of it, in a way. For once, his father was coming to see him and showing a very personal concern over his wellbeing -- not as an investment, but as a child. It made him uncomfortable and grateful all at the same time. But unfortunately, it was short-lived.
Someone from Kocher came to pick him up, but not without a very heated conversation with his father, who was understandably not in the green about some metahuman just coming by and picking up his son. But Blaise's situation was desperate and soon without any say, in the same fashion as every other life decision had been made for him, he was dressed, packed up and taken to Kocher.
The first thing he learned there was how to refuse the toxin. It was actually a very miserable year or so, his first year at Kocher. He couldn't spend it socializing, because he spent most of it either sick in bed or training with the instructors there. A lot of the practice involved sitting in the toxin, letting it poison him and proceeding to have an awful night of building up a resistance to it, as (or so it was theorized) his body was attempting to do on its own. Simultaneously, he worked on his control, day and night.
Around 14 years old, he was able to channel the toxin through particular glands or parts of his body on command, which particularly means his hands, though he has little use for it. His practice was spent on plants, wild animals, and even (regrettably) pets he encountered in town.
He had to leave Kocher at 16 years old, when he'd finally adjusted to the school dynamic, academically and socially. As it turned out, his family was relocating on behalf of some business venture or another, and in light of his location, and the school he was attending, father wanted to keep his heir closeby. As such, he was relocated to another meta school in Vermont, within the US.
Most recently, it has been to some alarm to the entire family that not only has he, himself, manifested; but his younger brother was receiving visit from a Hammel employee. He could only hope that didn't ruin a potential chance he had for any real social life.
Roleplay Example
It was the second coming of the great Pillow-fort, and Darian was clearly either in a playful mood or in a very bored mood. Whatever the way, he found himself once again within Room 502, blankets and pillows taken inconsiderately off of everybody's beds (Then, he knew that Walther didn't mind, and he had yet to really talk with Tomer. He hadn't even considered how Erik would feel about it.)
The pillows all stacked up to make a bigger fort, a better fort than the first one, and it stood right in the middle of the room, looking proudly up from the floor. Fishboy himself sat within its walls, with a flashlight and a book written up in simple words. It was clearly a learning book, and he quietly read it aloud to himself, sounding things out. Usually, the bigger words, the ones that were harder to spell or understand. And when he heard the sounds leave his mouth and he recognized them (usually at this point much earlier than when he would finish the word), His lips would draw into a satisfied smile, it was a little victory for him. Every sentence was a little victory.
It used to be that exercises like this were more frustrating than anything else. Throughout elementary school, his grades would tank and nobody would find out why, and it was his fault that he was too embarrassed to tell anyone what was going on. This was why so much of his time was spent sport-swimming. Then, it wasn't until Hammel that he decided to a face this disability, even if he didn't share it with anyone. This was something he wouldn't do outside the safety of the pillow fort, and these kids books were things he honestly didn't want to show anybody. Not the teachers, not Walther, not anyone. People already all thought he was dumb enough as it was.
And they weren't frustrating anymore! They were just work... and it was actually a little exciting that he was starting to get it. He pulled one of the blankets close and wrapped it around himself, causing the leftmost wall to cave in a bit, but still remain sturdy and standing tall. To clean up the pillow mess didn't occur to him currently, either, nor the idea that anyone could come in and have a problem with this. It worked the last time just fine...
Cited from Here
What About You?
Name: Robin
Age: 19
Experience: A long time now.
How Did You Find Us? Recommendation.
Ready To Play? Yes. Yes I am.
