Deane Clark Dickerson

[Deane Dickerson]

The Basics

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Name: Deane Clark Dickerson
Nicknames: Deanne, Deandra, Diane, Dane, pretty much anything you can come up with
Age: Seventeen
Orientation: Heterosexual
Desired Rank/Job: Student, Library Assistant
Powers: Night Vision

Deane has the gift of night vision. He is currently able to see in the dark almost as well as he can see in daylight as long as there is some form of light nearby, be it the moon, stars, a small candle, et cetera. Once he masters the ability, he will be able to see even in complete darkness, but he’s not quite there. The side effects are similar to what people experience if they stay in the light too long. He gets eye strain if it is too dark, headaches if he transitions into light too quickly, and he can have a hard time seeing in the light if he’s been in the dark for too long.
Play By: William Moseley

The Details

Hair Color: Blonde, with a few dark blonde streaks
Eye Color: Blue
Any Piercings? None
Any Tattoos? One on his right shoulder that he designed himself. It is a 4 x 4 inch topographic map of his hometown.
Any Scars? One on his wrist from when he broke it, but it has faded significantly, one on the back of his neck from falling while trying to skateboard for the first and last time, and a few on his back and legs from random mishaps.
General Appearance: Tall, slightly muscular, and disheveled, Deane is your average shut-in. He looks a lot like his mother, with blonde hair and blue eyes, but his body shape comes solely from his father. He works out for a couple of hours a day, as long as he has the chance, and though his muscles aren’t extremely pronounced, they are there.

He wears loose shirts as much to hide the six pack as to hide all of the scars. He only has a handful of permanent marks, most of which come from being an average little boy getting into average spills. The one on the back of his neck, though faint, is the only one people would have a chance of seeing unless they forced him to strip, and the others on his back and legs Deane keeps covered. Deane hates sleeping and never sleeps of his own free will, waiting until he literally just passes out on his desk from exhaustion, so usually he looks exhausted and almost sick.
Personality:
Pushover
Deane is the definition of pushover. His very life and soul are dedicated to making other people happy in any way, shape, or form, no matter what it takes. He lets people walk all over him and takes insults in a way that is so graceful it’s worrisome. Even though he has a fairly low income, he offers more than what he has to people all the time, just to try and make them happy. He doesn’t want the glory of thanks, either, or to be raised on a pedestal. If he got his way, he would work from the shadows and no one would know his face or name when he made them happier.

Nice
There is no other way to put it. Deane is just an all-around nice guy. He can makes friends with just about anyone. Whether it’s the stoners, the schizophrenics, the nerds, the jocks, the preps, the loners, or the music lovers, he’ll try to befriend them. He will do absolutely anything and everything for his friends, and he makes that obvious.

Attached
Having so little positive attention in his past, Deane tends to try and make up for it by creating a large circle of close-knit friends. He becomes the protector, leader, supporter, and life line to all of his friends, even more so to his best ones. And if one of his closest friends tries to push him away, it only makes him question what he did wrong and try even harder to pull t hem back.

Supportive
If one of his friends is in trouble, he is almost always the first person to offer a helping hand. He’ll do anything to make a person feel better. No matter what they want, if it will help them, he will do it. He has convinced himself that it’s his main purpose in life to help people.

Studious
Deane. Loves. Studying. ‘Nuff said. It is basically all he does. He spends the first 2 or 3 hours of his day exercising, but other than that, if he isn’t in class, he is studying. Studying history and geography is one of his passions, and he does it well. He oftentimes will go without sleeping or eating because he is too busy studying. He usually will sit at his desk until he literally just passes out from exhaustion.

Secretive
Rarely do you hear Deane talk about his past, or any of the many things he wants to keep to himself. It takes a lot of talking and blackmailing to get anything out of the kid, and if it’s something he is determined to keep to himself, you can threaten and even carry out death and he won’t talk.

Protective
If you make the mistake of trying to screw with one of Deane’s friends, you are in for quite a shock. Though he prefers the pacifist route, Deane is not afraid to get into a fist fight if the situation calls for it. He is quick to stick up for his pals, and the closer they are to him the more royally screwed the offender becomes.

Your Vices

Likes:

• maps
  
• studying
  
• his mother and (most) of his siblings
  
• conversations
  
• history
  
• antique desks
  
• books
  
• light
  
• cold weather

Dislikes:

• alcohol
  
• his past
  
• stacking dirty plates
  
• insects
  
• basements
  
• any grade lower than an A
  
• any sort of physical contact

Strengths:

• able to cope
  
• hard worker
  
• straight A student
  
• focused
  
• caring

Weaknesses:

• workaholic
  
• paranoid
  
• secretive
  
• no sense of self respect or self preservation

Fears:

• his father
  
• being touched
  
• loud noises, especially yelling
  
• failing

Secret: His father verbally, and sometimes physically, abused him until he was eleven years old. And he’s never kissed a girl, or even had a girlfriend.

Family Ties

Father: Eric Dickerson
Mother: Marie Calvin
Siblings: Sister – Sora Dickerson
Half Brother – Scott Alderman
Half Sister – Meagan Calvin
Sister – Jean Calvin
Brother – Thomas Calvin
Half Brother – Frank Dickerson
Half Sister – Cassandra Dickerson
Half Brother – William Dickerson
Any Other Important People:
Step Mother: Danielle Dickerson
Horses:

Musket – sister’s grulla gelding
Tahoe – mother’s paint gelding
Sarah – Deane’s palomino mare

History

First off, if we are going to understand any of this, we need to start with the parents. Deane’s mother and father met in their first year of college. His mother was seventeen, his father, twenty one. His mother was planning on majoring in medicinal studies to become a doctor. His father was just getting his Associate’s Degree before going to work in the family construction business. His mother was a beautiful blonde southern belle, native to Ilkley, West Yorkshire. His father was a burly, handsome London man. His mother was naïve. His father was a smooth talker. His mother was a fine catch. His father was a fine fisherman.

The two married only seven months after meeting. Marie was eighteen when they got hitched, his father twenty one. They moved to the little town of Gloucester, England. The couple lived a life of bliss. That is, until little Sora came along ten months after they were married. She was two weeks premature, but she was a beautiful black-haired girl who looked just like her Papa. By this time Marie was nineteen and Eric was twenty two.

A year later, Eric came home drunk as a skunk. He had recently made some new pals at his father’s construction site and the three had gone out drinking every night for the past month. That night, however, he had come home worse off than ever before. Marie frowned when she saw him, but as she always had, she stood up from her seat and went to help him to bed. At first, he didn’t seem to notice her. But when she rested a hand on his arm to assist him up the steps, he spun around and struck her in the face. She fell to the floor, astonished. He had never hit her before. Her shock only grew deeper when he grabbed her arms, hauled her up the steps, threw her onto their bed, and raped her.

Nine months later, Deane was born. Marie was twenty one, Eric twenty three, and Sora one.
Things ran smoothly for four years, or so the family thought. Eric stopped drinking, but secretly continued to verbally abuse his son whenever his wife wasn’t looking, and sometimes, when he was mad enough, take a swing or two at Deane. Unfortunately for Deane and fortunately for Eric, Marie never found out about this. Instead, she stopped being afraid of her husband, assuming that Deane was simply a quiet child and the bruises came from friends and climbing trees. As for Deane and Sora, they simply grew up like good little children always do.
When Deane was four, his father started going out for drinks again. His mother, remembering that horrifying night, turned to locking herself and the children in the nursery when Eric came home, afraid of a repeat of what had happened before. Luckily, nothing ever came of it, but there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that it would have if the door hadn’t been locked. However, the nightly terrors did not go without consequence, and Sora wasn’t a very strong little girl. It didn’t take long for her to stop talking, at first in fear of some sort of terrible thing happening between her parents, and then out of pure self preservation and dread in general.

Another year passed with every night spent locked in the nursery, the sounds of a drunk Eric storming around just outside. One night, however, changed everything. Eric came home, only half as drunk as usual, with a beautiful brunette Hooter’s waitress on one arm. Everyone who saw her could tell she was terrified, but she followed Eric into the house anyway. Marie hesitantly came downstairs when Eric called for her, and she and the waitress simply stared for a few moments.

Marie was twenty six, Eric was twenty nine, Sora was six, and Deane was five.

Nine months later, the waitress gave birth to a boy named Scott. Two days after that, the divorce was final. Marie Dickerson was once again Marie Calvin. Three months after that, Danielle Alderman the Waitress became Danielle Dickerson the Step Mother.

Marie was given sole custody of her daughter Sora, but Deane was forced to bounce between both parents every two weeks. He adored his mother and tolerated his step mother, but he was petrified of his father. The man was never around before two in the morning, and every night he would march down to Deane’s room and abuse him. He blamed Deane for the divorce. If Deane hadn’t been born, then Marie never would have dreaded the sex. It was all his fault.

It was during the first year of the divorce that Deane got his first taste of the hospital. His stepmother, who had until that night feigned ignorance of the horrors that went on in her basement, noticed that Deane didn’t seem quite right. That is, if you can call vomiting, an inability to stand, and blacking out every thirty seconds or so “quite right”. Danielle rushed him to the hospital, told the nurses that he had fallen down the stairs, and Deane spent the night in his very own half room with a concussion.

Five months after the divorce, a blonde teenager showed up at Eric’s doorstep. Deane watched as the woman handed him a baby, told him to do whatever the hell he wanted with it, and left. Eric gave it to Marie. Marie named the girl Meagan.

Marie was twenty seven, Eric was thirty one, Sora was seven, Deane was six, Danielle was twenty three, Scott was five months, and Meagan was two days old.

When Deane was 6 years old, he was introduced to the wonders of broken bones. His father purposefully broke his son’s finger and accidentally broke Deane’s right wrist. When he was asked about it, Deane obediently told the social worker that he had fallen out of a tree when Father had told him not to climb it because it was dangerous. They believed him.

Four years passed, and Deane continued to live his life in Hell. He was still screamed every night he was with his father, he could still hear Danielle willingly give herself up to her drunken husband, Sora still hadn’t said a word since those nights in the nursery, and Meagan was confused by it all.

One night, drunk as usual, Eric went to the wrong house. He had told the cabbie his old address, where Marie lived. It wasn’t until he woke up the next morning, next to a naked, trembling Marie that he realized he wasn’t home.

Marie was thirty one, Eric was thirty four, Sora was eleven, Deane was ten, Danielle was twenty seven, Scott was four, and Meagan was four.

Nine months later, Marie gave birth to twins. Jean and Thomas, she named them.

Two months after that, she was given three horses by her father. One for Sora, one for herself, and one for Deane. It would help with Sora’s healing, Deane’s grandfather had said. Little did he know that not only would it do wonders for his granddaughter, but for the rest of his family as well. After only two months of riding, Sora started talking. It was only in whispers at first, and only to the horse, but over time, she slowly and steadily recovered. Marie stopped locking every single window and door at night, trusting her gelding’s talkative attitude to alert her to any intruders, which he did. Deane stopped hiding in corners and instead took to talking to his mare about his struggles.

Four months after that, Deane’s father, step mother, and half sibling moved to Germany.

Marie was thirty two, Eric was thirty five, Sora was twelve, Deane was eleven, Danielle was twenty seven, Scott was five, Meagan was four, and Jean and Thomas were six months old.

Over the next seven years, Danielle gave birth to three more children. Deane grew more and more into the brilliant, kind-hearted child he is today, Sora talked more and more until she won the National Debate Competition in Washington DC when she was sixteen, and everyone that lived with Deane learned to hide their past well.

One would hope that the story ended happily here, but is that ever the case? When Deane was 13, he started noticing that he could read as late into the night as he wanted. He could see just as easily in the dark as he could the light. At first he attributed this to simply adjusting well to darkness, but no regular human could adjust as quickly as he could, could they? It only took a week after the first all-night reading session for someone to come to his door. They informed his mother that he was capable of night vision, and he would have to attend a special school in Switzerland.

Likewise, about a year later, Sora’s life was altered. At the age of 15, she started to notice that her vision wasn’t quite right either. She had wanted to get a snack after school one day, but discovered that she didn’t have to open the door to the refrigerator to see what was inside. This time, it only took the Recruiters three days to come to her house, explain that she had x-ray vision, and take her away.

Upset over the loss of her eldest children, Marie did her best to try and get them back, but to no avail. They had to attend the specialty school whether she liked it or not. The younger ones refused to move to Switzerland, however, so Marie did some research. It took a few years, but she was able to arrange for the family to move to the States. She bought a house in Vermont, in a place called Pilot Ridge, very close to the American version of the Switzerland school.

Marie was thirty eight, Sora was eighteen, Deane was seventeen, Meagan was ten, and Jean and Thomas were six.

Sora had already graduated from school, but still had to take at least one more year of classes to master her power. Deane was left with one year of legitimate schooling to go and an untold amount of time for power training.

Roleplay Example

Egan had to give kudos to whoever had devised the scheme. He had seen a lot of pranks in his lifetime – and had been the butt of far too many – but he had never seen any quite so…creative…as this one. The premise was simple. Steal a guitar and hang it from the ceiling. The execution was what made it so unique. They didn’t use string, or wire, or even pieces of the guitar. There were no traditional materials involved whatsoever. Instead, there were rubber bands, chewing gum, and that hardened-foam chemical material that Egan had seen a lot of on Halloween. What was it called? He couldn’t remember. He just knew that people did very bad things with it, and it was probably toxic.

He wasn’t sure whose guitar it was. He owned one, but he was fairly certain that he had seen his just a couple of minutes ago when he had skirted by his dorm to pick up a book. Surely this couldn’t have been done in a matter of minutes. Not without Egan spotting the culprits, anyway. He stared up at the guitar for a moment as it spun, but quickly got bored with the ridiculous notion of flying instruments and took a seat near the door. He tried to focus on his book, “A Separate Peace”, but the constant motion of the guitar continued to draw his attention.

When a person walked in, looking very surprised indeed, Egan almost jumped. He glanced from the boy to the guitar and back again, gauging his reaction. Had it been his guitar? He did look very bemused. Egan tilted his head a bit as the boy circled it, not unlike a large cat circling its prey. He was trying to gather details, it looked like. Maybe it was his, and he was looking for evidence as to who could have done it? Or maybe it wasn’t his, and he was looking for some sort of indication as to the real owner. Or maybe he just didn’t know if it was his, and he was searching for any particulars about his guitar that he could find on the guitar-turned-trapeze-artist.

Egan couldn’t blame him for any of those things. The pranksters had done a very good job in messing it up and hiding any identifying marks. He tilted his head a bit when the boy spoke, and quickly decided to try and focus back on his book. He didn’t want to get caught staring, and he was pushing his luck as it was. It wasn’t a full minute after looking down, however, that he felt something prodding his shoulder.

He flinched instinctively before glancing up at the boy and quickly looking at the guitar to avoid making eye contact. “Um…I think…I think it’s a Fender…but…it’s so very hard to tell…but I think the sign on the back says ‘Gotcha’.” He bit his lip a bit. “Oh, I do hope it isn’t yours. That would be very mean. What if that stuff stains the finish?”

He looked back at the boy when he spoke again, blushing a bit and once again looking away to avoid eye contact, this time turning his gaze downward. “I’m not sure…possibly…” Egan looked back up and grazed over the boy’s features with his eyes. “You look familiar…but I’m so horrible at placing faces. I’m sorry…”

What About You?

Name: Pariah
Age: 20
Experience:8+ years
How Did You Find Us? Advertisement searching
Ready To Play? I think so!

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[Dryope *]

Accepted

This isn't enough to hold up your acceptance, but Hooter's didn't debut in England until last year. What sleazy restaurant/bar his step-mother worked at is a pretty minor detail over all, but for accuracy sake.

Otherwise, I think you know what to do, so go do it!

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