Andreas Ivaring
Feb 4, 2014 3:28:30 GMT -5
Post by Andreas Ivaring on Feb 4, 2014 3:28:30 GMT -5
The easy S T U F F . . .
Name: Andreas Colin Ivaring
Nickname: Chessmaster (Self-given, rarely used publically).
Age: Fourteen
Member Group: Student
Power(s): Mood Sensing - Andreas has the ability to, with a small amount of focus, discern the mood of the person he is conversing with based on even the smallest of bodily expressions and signals. With that being said, though, he has to be looking at the person the whole time, and those with the very idea of what he can do can easily see when he is doing it, since that usually involves constant peeks downward, then back up. Continued usage of this power (More than two people in a day, or more than five minutes of one usage, or doing one person after another without a break), throws off his brain, and he'll suffer a variety of emotions representative of conditions like the Pseudobulbar Affect for a few hours, as well as an intense headache that feels like it's pushing up against his eyes, and a period of nausea. This is out of his control.
Play By: Ulrik Munther
Let it F L O W . . .
Andreas has always been an ambitious boy. From day one, he'd prefer getting better grades, improving himself, and coming out on top instead of getting true friends. His father engrained in him from the very start of his life to do his best, to be great, as a result of his own failures. He wasn't a rich man, and his love life was crippled as soon as Andreas was born, since arguments erupted, and the woman didn't want to 'raise a damn baby with him'. He never wanted him to live through that, again, and tried his best to instill gregariousness and an overall ambition. Living in Los Angeles, in a particularly bad neighborhood at that, things were bad, kids his age preferred to let things slide, let opportunities slide. They were simply slothful.
Obviously, because of this, he was seen as a nerd. Verbal mockery was something he took with a grunt, occasionally lashing out. But when he reached fourth grade, things got physical. Frequently, he'd come home with a cut lip or plenty of bruises. He didn't cry, he didn't beg. This just increased his resolve and made him angry. Though people probed, he insisted that it was just minor bullying and he could handle it. Again, more concerns were brought up, and this is when the school began to probe at him, insisting he'd see the counselor a few times a week.
A small group of friends came his way through plenty of false social interaction. He didn't care who they were or what they liked, but he was good at controlling them. He had lackies, protection. Now, he could go toe-to-toe with his usual harassers and agitators. This, this he liked more than anything. It quickly got to his head, now that he could go to and from school safely.
Come sixth grade, he was the (de jure) king of the school, or at least in his mind.. The bullies did, of course, strike again, but he had aces up his sleeve. He started to take notes on them on the playground. Their mannerisms, what made them happy, and what made them mad. He quickly built a reputation of being able to make people's lives hell on the flip of a switch. This did, however, destroy any real social life that he had left. He saw his lackies go from chums who were willing to protect him, to a bit fearful and avoiding... His father didn't discourage this, and teachers, well, he was the favorite of a few teachers. He essentially got away with, and easily transitioned to the mentality of "The Smartest, and Most Deceitful win." by playing at how miserable he was. Some didn't have any of it, and Andreas faced many detentions down the road from there, plenty of lectures, and a few times, his father was even given a phone call or two. But the man was passive about it, so his homelife was, to say the least, pretty easy-going.
Junior High School was full of prospects. While a lot of his elementary school broke up, his ability was still very much something he could pull off. Things got a lot more mature from there, though. He was seeing gangs, people who got in actual bloody fist fights. It didn't shake him. In the middle of the year, he decided to see just how he fared against one of the bigger kids.
But something was wrong. As he was talking to him, he was subconsciously picking up on, and processing, such small things. Small muscle shifts, slights in gestures. He held this conversation, and found it much /easier/ to get under his skin, pit him against one of the other big guys, the football captain.
He went to class with a chip on his shoulder, then suddenly just erupted in sobbing, sobbing and laughing. He got a lot of odd looks, and was sent out of the room. But he couldn't stop. In the office, where he was receiving disciplinary action, he just kept going. His father picked him up, and brought him home, wondering whether or not he should call a doctor...
And just as suddenly as it began, it stopped four or five hours later, with him vomiting in the toilet and clutching his head between his palms.
About three days later, he was brought to Hammel. A completely new place. Completely surrounded by strangers, he played the game of a damaged kid. And he was, he didn't know how to be /normally/ social. For the past year-and-a-half, he'd been doing nothing but observing, and staying quiet, while paying regular visits to Dr. Neville to talk about how 'outcasted' he feels, how 'abnormal'... But he was building up his chessmaster -- his usual 'chessmaster' plan, to be able to manipulate teachers and students for his own ends, be it amusement, or taking charge of the school, while constantly denying that these feelings he was talking to Dr. Neville about existed.
But his lack of normal /human/ interaction means he feels a very strong connection with some animals, especially dogs. Oddly enough, he feels compassion for little kids, too, and does /not/ like to see them get messed with.
A few other notes:
- He's an obsessive note-keeper. He has several combination-locked journals where he makes in depth diagrams, notes, and profiles.
- He regards other people that are cynical in a high light, and finds himself being very amiable with them, to the point of deep, personal friendships.
- He stands up for others like himself, without pause. Knowing first-hand what it's like to be on the bad end of treatment, even short-term reassurances or full on protection will break through his usual introverted shell.
- History is his favorite broad subject, with Political Studies and Human Psychology being his favorite specific subjects.
- His prior-to-Hammel record does not cite violence, however, many teachers have brought up concerns with his father privately during conferences, or put it down on paper that he is rather bitter and anti-social to a lot of the other children.
- Despite appearances, he's an emotional wreck, and can hold long grudges for so much as mildly embarrassing him or angering him. He doesn't take things like being proven wrong lightly, either.
Behind the M A S K . . .
Name: Zach
Age: Still Eighteen.
RP Experience: A long time.
How did you find us?: Friend.
Show your S K I L L S . . .
"I look at all of this interaction, Doctor... All of these people who are friends, all of these relationships that form out of small talk. Am I envious? Do I desire that? I like to say no, and no. But I feel empty. I feel empty waking up every day, not even talking to my dorm-mates, going to eat, going to class only to over-achieve and stay silent. Pfft. Even the stereotypical suspenders-and-taped-glasses nerd gets more social interaction than I do."
He mulled over what to say next, ankles crossed, hands underneath his head. It was so easy for him to think when he was laying down like this. This was how he plotted who to manipulate, and what the chain reaction would be in accordance with his other options. He was the Chessmaster, and here he was, another talk. Another grasp at 'understanding'. He liked to tell himself this part was fake, but he received a lot of insight over the time that he was here.
"Hell, even the bullies of this school mostly leave me alone. The occasional rude aside -- well -- aside, I'm a shadow, a ghost. I don't know why short-term gregariousness can't transfer in to long-term relationship building." He sat up, then stood, stretching his arms. Their time was about up, and he'd delayed for long enough, anyhow.
"I don't know. I guess I've just got to do some looking, find someone like me, and start there. At least then, there's some sort of solidarity... Thank you for your time, Doctor."
Heh. Another session down. He left the room, figuring he was on top of the world. How easy life was when it looked like you had the staff perfectly in line for phase two.
"I am Ozymandias, King of Kings..." he chuckled to himself, slinking away to return to his dorm room. He had a long night of planning to get to...
