01-30-2008, 03:52 PM
Name: Lethe
Race: Human
Starting Planet: Earth
Bio: Not much is known about Lethe. His name was tattooed on his chest sometime before his stay at Edison Ridge. When he came to the Ridge he was unable to speak, earning himself the title "Mute."
General Description: Short blonde hair, usually kept hidden under a baseball cap. At one time his eyes had been a dead and dreary gray but as time progressed they took on a jade tint grew more vibrant. His clothes are the kind you'd expect to see on an Indie rocker in a local band show.
Roleplaying example:
The boy had read "Know thyself, know thy enemy," For years. It had been a part of his life as much as the Authors and the voices.
He had come to them a full grown boy at eighteen but as blind and bald as the abandoned babe he was. His name was Lethe. It was tattooed on his left pectoral in archaic bold lettering. His head had once been bald and his eyes once flitty and scared.
***
The other teens called Edison Ridge a Halfway House. Somewhere they put ya when they weren't sure whether you were crazy, stupid, or just a little slow. There were 311 residents. Lethe wasn't near the biggest or bravest, but pushed enough he was the meanest. Don't never back a snarlin' dog into a corner, Someone had told him during the stay there. And it was true.
Now they were hard eyes. Killer's eyes. His hair was a few inches long, blonde with a golden-brown tint in darker light. It had taken him seven months to remember how to talk. Before that he'd communicated with the others in grunts and with writing. Despite the ignorant facade the boy had first worn his penmanship had always been remarkable.
***
The morning was abnormally cold. A fat conglomeration of cotton obstruct the sun but the children still played kickball. It kept them active, kept their minds off the bunks they went back to every night. Edison Ridge had a rather impressive baseball field, with a total of 80% their budget invested in sports. Intellectual lemons could still produce athletic machines, they thought.
Lethe stood just behind Johnny, who was next up to kick only he couldn't run "On account a' his drunker'n dogshit daddy'd busted his leg up with a sledgehammer." There were alotta kids like that in Edison Ridge and Lethe was grateful he couldn't remember a lot of what he'd gone through. It only came back in the dreams.
"Alright Cripple. You kickin' for Mute?" That was what they called him at Edison Ridge. Mute. Every kid had some sortof title to degrade their self esteem. It was alright. He didn't mind being Mute. Nobody knew what Lethe meant anyway, and it was better than Cripple.
Eric Stoltzel was the boy rolling. He was the same age as Lethe, and two years older than Johnny or most of the others. That was another thing.
When there were only two big boys and one was a bully the other stood out unless he fell in. And that meant being what some of the other kids called an asshole. Eric was an asshole. Lethe had never been able to find it in himself.
"Eat a dick."
"Ah, pipe down." Eric cocked his arm back like a professional bowler, big monkey hand palming the ball. He hurled it forward, bouncing and skidding.
"What is that? Don't be a punk." Johnny replied, and threw the ball back. It fell short, bouncing a few times before it reached the other boy, kicking up dust.
"Just kick it Cripple." This time when Eric rolled it Lethe charged forward and struck it squarely with the laces of his shoe. It whizzed back spinning, sand flying off it in a tail like a bouncy red comet. Eric saw it coming a moment too late.
Lethe was already running to base when he heard the gasps and someone else.
"I'm gunna kill you, you sonofabitch!" Lethe turned. Eric's white Metallica shirt had dribbles of blood all down the front of it. His nose looked piggish and mushed against his face.
Strength: 100
Constitution: 50
Agility: 150
Insight: 100
Technique: 150
Willpower: 50
Techniques:
Blackout: At the risk of being completely vulnerable while in the state Lethe may shut his bodily pulse off inorder to heal at an extraordinary rate.
For the other four I could probably write a few quests and active roleplays if its all the same to ya.
Race: Human
Starting Planet: Earth
Bio: Not much is known about Lethe. His name was tattooed on his chest sometime before his stay at Edison Ridge. When he came to the Ridge he was unable to speak, earning himself the title "Mute."
General Description: Short blonde hair, usually kept hidden under a baseball cap. At one time his eyes had been a dead and dreary gray but as time progressed they took on a jade tint grew more vibrant. His clothes are the kind you'd expect to see on an Indie rocker in a local band show.
Roleplaying example:
The boy had read "Know thyself, know thy enemy," For years. It had been a part of his life as much as the Authors and the voices.
He had come to them a full grown boy at eighteen but as blind and bald as the abandoned babe he was. His name was Lethe. It was tattooed on his left pectoral in archaic bold lettering. His head had once been bald and his eyes once flitty and scared.
***
The other teens called Edison Ridge a Halfway House. Somewhere they put ya when they weren't sure whether you were crazy, stupid, or just a little slow. There were 311 residents. Lethe wasn't near the biggest or bravest, but pushed enough he was the meanest. Don't never back a snarlin' dog into a corner, Someone had told him during the stay there. And it was true.
Now they were hard eyes. Killer's eyes. His hair was a few inches long, blonde with a golden-brown tint in darker light. It had taken him seven months to remember how to talk. Before that he'd communicated with the others in grunts and with writing. Despite the ignorant facade the boy had first worn his penmanship had always been remarkable.
***
The morning was abnormally cold. A fat conglomeration of cotton obstruct the sun but the children still played kickball. It kept them active, kept their minds off the bunks they went back to every night. Edison Ridge had a rather impressive baseball field, with a total of 80% their budget invested in sports. Intellectual lemons could still produce athletic machines, they thought.
Lethe stood just behind Johnny, who was next up to kick only he couldn't run "On account a' his drunker'n dogshit daddy'd busted his leg up with a sledgehammer." There were alotta kids like that in Edison Ridge and Lethe was grateful he couldn't remember a lot of what he'd gone through. It only came back in the dreams.
"Alright Cripple. You kickin' for Mute?" That was what they called him at Edison Ridge. Mute. Every kid had some sortof title to degrade their self esteem. It was alright. He didn't mind being Mute. Nobody knew what Lethe meant anyway, and it was better than Cripple.
Eric Stoltzel was the boy rolling. He was the same age as Lethe, and two years older than Johnny or most of the others. That was another thing.
When there were only two big boys and one was a bully the other stood out unless he fell in. And that meant being what some of the other kids called an asshole. Eric was an asshole. Lethe had never been able to find it in himself.
"Eat a dick."
"Ah, pipe down." Eric cocked his arm back like a professional bowler, big monkey hand palming the ball. He hurled it forward, bouncing and skidding.
"What is that? Don't be a punk." Johnny replied, and threw the ball back. It fell short, bouncing a few times before it reached the other boy, kicking up dust.
"Just kick it Cripple." This time when Eric rolled it Lethe charged forward and struck it squarely with the laces of his shoe. It whizzed back spinning, sand flying off it in a tail like a bouncy red comet. Eric saw it coming a moment too late.
Lethe was already running to base when he heard the gasps and someone else.
"I'm gunna kill you, you sonofabitch!" Lethe turned. Eric's white Metallica shirt had dribbles of blood all down the front of it. His nose looked piggish and mushed against his face.
Strength: 100
Constitution: 50
Agility: 150
Insight: 100
Technique: 150
Willpower: 50
Techniques:
Blackout: At the risk of being completely vulnerable while in the state Lethe may shut his bodily pulse off inorder to heal at an extraordinary rate.
For the other four I could probably write a few quests and active roleplays if its all the same to ya.
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