Post by SASCHA DESRAKAHL on Jun 5, 2013 17:50:07 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=valign, top][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, border: 10px solid #f1e3b4; width: 450px; background-color: #f6f7f1;] PERMANENT RECORD  NAME: Sascha Desrakahl AGE: 16 GENDER: Male HEIGHT: 5'11 FACE CLAIM: N/A DESCRIPTION AND PERSONALITY: Sascha is a striking boy, although whether it attracts or repulses is up to the viewer. His eyes are blood red and ice blue with partial heterochromia in both eyes, but aren't much use. While he isn't completely blind like albino humans with completely red eyes, he suffers from extremely poor vision due to the lack of melanin produced in his body. He also has the signature white hair and pale skin prone to burning in the sun. He spends most of his time indoors because of this, yet still retains a fairly fit stature, although slim. Pale horns the color of bones protrude out of his elbows, shoulders, brow and cheek bones. They grow at a decent rate and if not tended to can extend to cumbersome lengths. However they can be filed down or broken, and reveal rings not unlike trees when broken. His hair is bright white at the roots and fades to a creamy off white. If he let it grow it would eventually fade to a rather sunny yellow. The locks themselves tend to spike in all directions. When out of uniform, he will typically wear jeans, running shoes, and various forms of hoodies and tank tops. (The horns make it rather difficult to wear longer sleeves and tee-shirts end up looking scrunched up at the base of his shoulder spikes.) Whether because he is simply an introvert or because his unique appearances shun others, Sascha never really learned to open up to other people. Since the recent manifestation of his powers, he has become more confident and willing to interact with people, but he is by no means very friendly. He does not miss others when alone, and may seem even grudging to have company with his thoughtless remarks, but he is doesn't particularly mean to be hurtful and is just speaking his mind. While not a robot by any means, the emotions he tends to show have a somewhat limited range, and he has been called heartless once or twice because of his callous nature. He does care to some extent, however, because he lets his guard down enough to show different reactions from person to person, although they mostly range within disgust to dry amusement. He really doesn't care about how beautiful a person looks because of how unlikely it is that he would see them clearly, and instead bases his interactions around the consistency of their words, voice, smell, and aura. HISTORY Originally born in an Amish community in Lancaster, PA, his family moved out the end of his tenth spring due to a job offer. Before then, life was not particularly bad, although the summers were dreadful what with the sun burning everything under its rays. While the work was harder than for perhaps others, it was what he knew and it helped him later in life. Sascha's family, then with the surname of King moved to New Haven, Connecticut where he started his 6th year in school. However trouble between the parents led to a divorce then later a remarriage with his mom. She married a man of the city and became the primary caretaker, at which point he adopted his step-father's last name, Desrakahl. Unlike most divorced families, Sascha and his step-father generally got along, and when Sascha started attendance at the local highschool, his mother and fathers could be seen at family gatherings conversing normally. In Lancaster he'd spend his free time reading or playing with the other kids, however more often than not he'd end up getting sunburned when playing with others on top of having difficulty playing sports that required better vision. When he moved to New Haven, he was both the 'new kid' and the one who looked weird and as such kept to himself much more. He also started watching tv and playing video games, however none of his parental figures particularly encouraged it and as a result he never ended up glued to any sort of screen. His main hobby was martial arts - introduced to him by his step-father - and he stuck with the style till he began attending Jean Grey. POWERS AND ABILITIES Sascha's abilities are rather subtle, and if it were not for his horns, a by-product of the manifestation, he'd be able to pass off as a normal human. He is first and for-most an aura reader, however as his powers only recently manifested, the colors of the auras aren't very defined. When first introduced he perceived aggressive and passive auras, with the stronger emotions shining more brightly. However as the power ages it becomes possible to discern more specific emotions. (Next stage would be fear, anger, disgust, joy, sadness, shock) The auras, unless particularly weak, can significantly obstruct what form the subject has. This makes it a little easier to see emotional people at night, as the auras show there's someone there, but most other times it simply makes it harder to see as the auras take precedence over light. He also benefits (or suffers, depending on the situation) from higher senses than others. The four other senses found in humans are all fine-tuned to some extent to make up for his less than exemplary vision, but some more so than others. Touch and hearing weren't particularly amplified by the manifestation, but are slightly more acute due to him relying on them consistently more throughout his life than human's primary sense, sight. However, his chemoreception greatly developed to a much keener level. Since this is a new and rather substantial change, focusing on senses like smell and taste are often confusing. However with time and practice he can eventually recognize people based on their odorprint (At its full potential, he would be able to recognize a person's primary odor. He is not at this step yet). It could also eventually be used to identify emotions along with their auras he sees, but as this is fairly new and not to its full potential, the effects are most seen with his sudden preference for blander food and scrunching his nose at artificial perfume. His last ability, healing, is not something he's overly fond of doing. Unlike their headmaster, his healing abilities are not particularly self-oriented and have the greatest effect on others around him. What little self healing he is capable of is not particularly noticeable or prominent, and is most definitely nothing conscious. It allows him to heal slightly faster than the average human, but would not save his life from a fatal injury. His immune system enjoys a slight boost from this as well, but it mostly means head colds - when he does get them, are the bane of his existence. The other side of his healing ability is something he avoids as best he can. If he so chooses, Sascha can heal another's injury. It allows him to heal other life-forms at his expense, depending on the significance of the injury. It requires both physical contact with the injured and awareness of the injury. The healing doesn't happen immediately, and to his relief, he can stop the process if he decides to. However, healing, even for a split second, causes him to psychologically absorb the injury itself, and the pain will linger for a few hours even after he stops. The worse the injury, the harder to heal because of the impulse to stop healing and save himself from the pain. When first used, the power only heals injuries, but when it matures it could eventually encompass all forms of physical affliction. With time and usage, the pain that healing inflicts may also lessen, but it will never go away completely. (He will never be able to heal those on their deathbed or dead. The sensation passed on through the healing would trick his brain into thinking he was dead or dying and he would inadvertently kill himself. They must already have some chance of living.) ROLE-PLAYING SAMPLE It was almost summer. The thought alone was just enough to keep Sascha plodding through the boring school days, the final reviews, the energetic students. While his summers weren't usually spent outside, they still meant sleeping in and doing what he wanted to do; not what the teachers wanted him to do. The day was a rather nice day out, and if it wasn't safer to take the bus home, Sascha would have almost walked. Still, the five minute walk between the bus stop and his apartment was so far pleasant. A nice breeze was blowing through the city, bringing cool air and city sounds. Cars honking, birds squawking at each other, and was that a yelp? Pausing in his steps, Sascha listened in case he heard something. He was almost home, but there was something off about the sound. Besides, it wasn't a bad day to be outside, even for him. Just as he resumed the trek through his complex, he heard it again, accompanied by a loud, angry voice. 'Someone,' he thought, 'isn't having a good day.' He was about to put it out of his head when he registered what the person was yelling about. A dog. Or, to put it in their words, a 'dirty street mutt'. Sascha frowned. Back in the community he lived with in Lancaster, dogs were valued as 'God's creatures', and were treated with respect for the work the canines did. While the religious aspect of his old community did not stay as he transferred to the city, his attitude towards animals, among other things, stayed the same. That, and he also tended to like the creatures, they were, as he had met them, loyal and hard working animals - they did not deserve to be treated like dirt. Another sharp yelp had his feet turning in the direction of the sound of the conflict, bringing more detailed sounds as he came nearer. The voice continued to rant, broken up occasionally by yelps or ominous thuds. Turning into an alley way, Sascha saw a rather blurred picture of a black collie mix cowering in a corner, and a rather solid man towering over it. As he stepped into the shade, the man kicked at the dog, which tried to scramble out of the way but got caught in the hip by the foot, sending it against a concrete wall. Appalled, Sascha sprinted forward. "Hey! What'd that dog ever do to you?" He shouted, pushing the heavier male out of the way. The attacker stumbled then turned towards him. He took a deep intake of breath, as if to yell at him, but stopped as he took in the sight of the newcomer. While Sascha wasn't exactly intimidating, he wasn't demure, especially when upset. After a few moments, the man pushed passed him with a few feeble excuses muttered underneath his breath. Sascha thought he heard 'freak' and 'dumb animal' in there, but didn't comment as he turned his attention towards the cowering dog. He approached cautiously, listening intently and staring as best he could at the animal. He reached the animal without consequence and softly ran his fingers through the black fur. Even he could clearly see the contrast. Now that he felt safe from the threat of both the frightened dog and man, anger bubbled. The dog didn't deserve to be beaten upon, it wasn't aggressive at all. Hell, it didn't even smell bad or feel greasy. Thinking of the man brought his temper closer to the surface and without thinking, he grabbed the dogs fur tighter, gritting his teeth. Only a yelp and a cold nose to his forearm brought him back to the dog in front of him, and he quickly let go and began petting the animal. It didn't deserve pain. He wished he could take it away, the animal shouldn't have to suffer because some idiot human had some mental issue that required him to beat a dog. Just as the thought crossed his mind, pain exploded in his head and throughout his body. It felt like a bunch of jocks had come and beaten him up while he wasn't looking, but it didn't go away. The mutt gave a little growl, as the albino collapsed on it, one hand buried in its fur and the other clutching his head. The pain wouldn't stop. What was going on? Sparing a thought for the dog, Sascha pulled himself off the dog, panting slightly. As the contact ceased, some of the pain lessened, but in other areas it focused to sharp points. Afterwards, it could have been related to extreme growth pains, but in the moment all he could think was nothing. His eyes shut at some point, he couldn’t tell when – he couldn’t even tell how much time had passed. It must not have been long, however, as the collie mix was still there and the sun didn’t seem to have changed position. Slowly the pain ebbed back into a low throb, and he could get himself back together, leaning up against the wall. He felt a bit odd, like his head weighed a bit more than it used to, but otherwise he wouldn’t have thought he was in any serious condition. However when he opened his eyes, he first thought he hit his head. The dog was there, sitting faithfully beside him… shining dimly in a pleasant shade of blue in the afternoon sunlight. It wasn’t blaringly obvious, but it was definitely there, and he reached out to ruffle its fur. And promptly recoiled. He was shining too, a shade similar to the dog. Looking around hard, it appeared as though he and the dog were the only things glimmering outside of the sun’s light. He began scrubbing at his eyes, they had always been worse than others, but they had never played tricks on him like this. All thoughts about glowing blue dogs were momentarily pushed aside, however, as his hands brushed something on his brow that had most definitely not been there before. A feeling of horror momentarily flashed through him as his mind pictured all sorts of horrendous things that could be stuck to one’s brow. Reaching up cautiously, he felt about the protrusions with a strange fascination. ‘I must be dreaming.’ He thought to himself in a very disbelieving manner. The dog yipped. application was passed by username | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=valign,top][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 40px;] H O U N D |
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