View Single Post
Old September 25th, 2011 (11:07 AM). Edited August 9th, 2012 by Legend.
Legend's Avatar
Legend Legend is offline
Crystal Tier
Join Date: Apr 2008
Location: New Jersey
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Nature: Lonely
Posts: 1,300
Name: Christian Calaway
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Height: 6"4/ 193cm
Weight: 199lbs/ 90kg
Location: Egham, Surrey, London, England


-> Reference picture

-> Nationality: Caucasian

-> Atlantean Tattoo: Located on his upper right bicep is a runic symbol similar to this:

->Physical: Christian is a rather large man, standing tall with a fair amount of balanced muscle growth maintaining an athletic build. His skin is fairly pale, with only his face only a shade darker when compared to the rest of his body. His full thick black hair is fairly short, with only a few strands brushing across his small cold blue eyes. The hair is beginning to gray, however, with several noticeable streaks running through; an unfortunate trait he picked up from his father. This makes Christian appear a number of years older than he actually is. Christian has a long and thin face to the point of nearly appearing gaunt. Christian has a few battle scars, ruining his near perfect face (sarcasm XP). His nose has a prominent bridge, likely a result of his fair share of broken noses and his chin a small scar running across it. Christian keeps some facial hair, though it is alive only in the form of dark stubble. He has noticeably long arms and legs, with an almost stocky torso in comparison. Christians stands tall with excellent posture, though his posture does not carry over when he sits down, preferring to slouch.

-> Clothing: Christian dresses like a biker in the simplest of terms. He is most recognizable by his motorcycle racing jacket. Its base is black with red and white accents on the sleeves, shoulders and torso with a white logo on his left chest. Under the jacket, Christian sports a plain black shirt with no notable designs. However this is rarely seen as he loves his jacket more than he should. Christian favors a faded pair of blue jeans, held up by a leather belt with a silver buckle. To protect his hands, he wears a pair of fingerless black leather gloves. Unlike his blue jeans, the gloves are actually in good condition. Christian's favorite pair of black leather boots are the finishing touch to his look. The boots are relatively pristine despite the fact they are quite worn and fairly dirty, having seen plenty of action in the past year.

Accessories are not a foreign concept with Christian investing in several. Chains are a reoccurring theme, with a silver chain bracelet on his left hand, another steel chain hanging from his jeans (a result of his wallet), and his personal chain, a silver chain necklace with a celtic cross pendant around his neck. He is rarely seen without his trusty black motorcycle helmet with a "Legend of Zelda" theme on it and his worn old no name brand backpack with a "Sonic the Hedgehog" design eroding away. Christian formally sported several piercings, but has recently rid himself of them, leaving only yet to close up holes on his nose and ears.

Christian is a man of honor and ideals. He follows his only personal code of justice and is fairly morally conscious, pursuing what he believes is true justice at the time. He punishes those who promote chaos or injustice, and supports those he believes are not. He believes in fairness, but understands that true justice is relative and not an absolute concept. That being said, Christian pursues justice regardless, hoping to make the world a better place one step at a time. Christian's greatest desire is to make a change in the world. At times, Christian has been known to take his personal quest too seriously and be overzealous in his pursuit. He is not above taking morally questionable actions. He is not one to stand down from a fight. Instead he stands ready to fight whenever the situation calls for it whether it be defending an innocent, defending his dream, upholding his code of justice or when he is simply provoked into one. One to be caught in the heat of battle, Christian can overdo it at times often using his power by mistake.

Christian is a stern individual, taking life very seriously. He is rigid, structured, methodical, and cautious in all aspects of life. This leads to Christian being strict and overbearing, hating those who are ignorant to the effects of their actions. Stupidity is almost a crime to Christian. He takes life one step at a time and rarely acts on instinct, relying on his intelligence to make the best decision possible. To this end, Christian is an opportunist and is able to capitalize on many opportunities life gives him. Christian remains calm and collected, being logical whenever possible and not letting his emotions govern his actions. Not one for humor and preferring to keep serious, Christian is not a fan of jokes especially those of poor taste. However, he is known for being sarcastic and mutters the occasional wisecrack.

When interacting with others, Christian remains reserved. He enjoys social interaction and speaks with a polite tone, but does not go out of his way to meet people. Rather, he prefers that people approach him. Christian is a reliable person and he is quick to gain others trust (though he is slow to do the same). Christian despises lying and those who lie, rarely associating with those who fail to keep their word. If he is friends with someone, he assumes the role of the honorable friend and does his best to help them in any way he can. He is loyal almost to a fault, seeing treason as a crime. In a large group, Christian favors being in second in command, acknowledging the fact he is poor at motivating others and would make a terrible leader.

Christian is still human and has his faults. As mentioned before, he can be overzealous in his personal quest for justice and is overbearing at times because of his need for order. Christian is judgmental as well, rarely giving those second chances, especially for those who betray him. Christian also does poorly in relaxing, constantly needing to do something. He is known to be stubborn, refusing to admit defeat even in the most foolish of disputes. Christian can also be disrespectful to others if he feels they do not deserve it.

Christian was born in London, England but his family moved overseas to New York City when he was only 3 years old for the sake of his father opening another branch for his company. For the most part, he spent his days in the Upper East Side, as his father was an influential business man who commanded great wealth. This wealth dominated his parent's decisions from everything to their expenses to the groups they spent time with, as their aspirations were to become elite socialites. While Christian lived in comfort, he also lived in relative obscurity. He had a poor social life, as he received home schooling from his overbearing and overprotective mother. He had limited time outside of his "classroom" unable to experience the outside world. TV time was limited to an hour a day and the internet was inaccessible till he was 12. Sheltered, Christian's only interactions outside of his family and books were "rich" people gatherings where he mingled with children that primed for business school like he was. An independent thinker who dreamed of bigger things, Christian grew tiresome of these gatherings and as he grew older and he became more outspoken and rebellious. Christian yearned for a more free life and the ability to go out and explore. Eventually his parents caved in to his complaints (mostly his father who was less protective) and he was allowed to attend a public high school program at 14.

It was there that Christian became more exposed to the world. The sheltered life could not prepare him for a world of chaos. Crimes happening regularly and a world that could not help itself bothered him. It motivated Christian to developing his own philosophy and outlined his goals: Christian wanted to help the world the best he could. He took his studies seriously, using the work ethnic that his mother implanted in him to earn high marks in school with his dream landing a job in the government.

Christian had a slow start when it came to actually adapting to the world outside of his luxury apartment and his first year of high school reflected that. He was not an immediate social butterfly by any stretch of the imagination, being shy for a number of weeks. Everyday he would come home somber with his mother seeking any excuse to pull him out of school and place him back in his "elite homeschooling program." His father was more patient, ready to give Christian a chance to come out of his shell. The process was slow, awkward, and challenging. Christian had many failed attempts in making that first friend alienating many of his peers. Whether it was Christian's own awkward approach to social interaction or the ridiculously fancy outfits his mother dressed him in is a matter of debate. But a breakthrough happened shortly before his 15th birthday when an older student approached him during lunch. His name was Nicolas. Considered by many to be a punk, a troublemaker, and an outcast, Nicolas treated Christian with a fair amount of kindness and the two eventually became quite close friends.

Of course, Christian's mother despised Nicolas and his father was slow to warm up to the idea but nevertheless Nicolas proved to be a steadfast friend and one that Christian could rely on to help him out in a pinch nullifying Christian's bully problem in a few short weeks. In the following summer, Nicolas got Christian his first job at a motorcycle shop, selling and repairing motorcycles while also teaching him the basics of "commoner fashion" and the art of picking up girls. It was an enlightening few months to say the least.

Christian's sophomore (or 2nd) year in high school proved to be quite different. His new look, approach and feel for life equated to more success in all walks of life. More friends, better grades, more money. You get the idea. He played his first real video game, got his first pet, went to his first movie and so on. He even had his first girlfriend, albeit short lived, equated to two months of struggle and three months of recovery from heartbreak. His job went well, earning several raises and witness Nicolas get promoted to manager following his successful graduation from high school (with Christian being his tutor to pass finals).

The remaining years went by swimmingly and his new interests began to take form. Christian found a great love for motorcycles and with his saved up money purchased his first bike and began to customize it. He graduated school without much of a problem and began to attend New York University for a Law degree while maintaining his position at the bike shop, working repairs instead of sales. He moved out of his parent's apartment as well, moving with Nicolas when he turned 19.

He was 22 when he remembers waking up in the late evening, flying over his bed, his body nearly transparent. Shocked, frightened, and confused Christian locked himself in his room for several days until he could reason with himself. His first thought was that he took a few too many substances the day before. His second thought was that he was actually dreaming. His final thought was that he was some scientific freak which would explain why his mother never wanted him to leave home. The emergence of some strange tattoo in the coming days made the third option feasible, but not likely. Instead of wondering the "whys" and "hows", he focused on obtaining some sense of control. Approximately a week later, Christian was capable remaining solid for extended periods of time though it often ended with him a massive headache and him floating around in his room with smoke filling every corner.

He became familiar with the lower and simple functions of his power and began to become accustomed with the upper limits of his "gift". Upon signing up and being accepted to an exchange program, Christian has just arrived in London and is ready to begin his next term at Royal Holloway, University of London with his trusty motorcycle as his only friend (OOC: I googled it. Seems like a cool school. Wouldn't know. Not British lol).


Smoke Manipulation: Christian has the ability to control, generate, manipulate and transform into smoke at will. With this power, Christian can become intangible (by transforming his entire body into smoke) and fly (by changing his lower body into smoke and using density properties to maintain a controlled state of flight). When intangible, Christian is immune to most attacks (as well as being able to flutter around as a cloud). The main offensive of this ability of his power comes from his ability to manipulate the density of the smoke produced, being able to grasp his opponent with surrounding smoke (his tight grip can be broken by powerful forces) or he can simply use the smoke as a blunt weapon. He can also shape the smoke into different shapes, such as giant fists, and use them to attack. As his body is a living embodiment of smoke, Christian's principle weaknesses come those provided by smoke. Strong gusts of wind and confined spaces limit Christian's capabilities greatly as they make his powers either difficult to control (wind blows smoke around) or limit the area to operate in. Also Christian's powers require extreme concentration, frequent mental calculations and emotional control. As such stirring Christian's mental and emotional state will cause to make mistakes that develop opportunities for others to take advantage of. Christian's control over his body state is also fickle and finds the control slip from time to time, becoming smoke at inopportune times.

The upper limits of his power are unknown, but he suspects the upper functions would focus on a greater range of manipulation (higher level of destiny to increase damage), control (wider range of shapes and "weapons"), and generation (being able to create more smoke at one time as his current limit is filling up a large room)

Misc: Christian spends most of his time at bars drinking (rum and cola cocktail please) and smoking (he favors cigars) in a social environment. He also dreams of experiencing true love like they do in the movies. Christian owns and rides a motorcycle everywhere, performing his own repairs. For a reference of the motorcycle, here is a picture:

Writing Sample:
Rain. Its ability to nurture life unrivaled. Its ability to bring the rise and fall of civilization unmatched. Its ability to bring negative emotion to Lyle unquestionable.

Lyle had left his comfortable home in Castelia City. Him leaving was inevitable at the time. His adoptive parents did not force him out in any sort of way. In fact, they wanted him to say ever since his Uncle Ray broke the "news." Ha, the news. It's not every day that you learn your mother had a fetish for Pokemon and decided to have sex with one. Thats how Lyle chose to look at it at least. Twisting the facts into some twisted humorous story was Lyle's way of coping with the fact he was freak. Lyle continually explained he needed to leave Castelia for his own reasons. Lyle put in a vague way: "To find something." What that something was? Hell, he didn't know. He was hoping it would be a clue. A calling perhaps for what he was destined to do. His brother, Neil, went on a quest of self-discovery a year or two ago and discovered he wanted to become a historian after visiting Johto. Lyle had hoped it would work for him as well. Packing a bag full of clothes and stuff, Lyle took out his bicycle from the closet and walked out the door proclaiming he will return but as "a man." He was never skilled with words.

That was a week ago. Now Lyle finds himself on a dark, dim, empty road leading to some city he was never been to combating the elements and losing. Walls of rain blocked his vision and the wind was pelting him in the face with sticks, stones and anything else that can break bones. The street was barely lit and most would refuse to travel it in this inclement weather, but Lyle had little choice. Standing around was not his style, but it was slowly becoming the more attractive option. "Bah, this crappy weather sucks," Lyle complained. He had given up. I probably should of a few hours ago when it started, he thought to himself. He had hoped in his gut it was a temporary shower. He then remembered hope gets one nowhere.

Taking cover under a few trees on the side of the road, Lyle crouched down, reaching into his pockets for his pack of cigarettes and his lucky sliver lighter with a distinct medieval design. Getting lucky on his fifth try, Lyle managed to light his cigarette. Taking in some smoke, he exhaled slowly letting the stress leave his body. Smoking was probably the only thing that could make him forget about the weather. With a sigh, Lyle let his mind wander taking in the sights and sound of the weather. "From this angle, the rain ain't too bad. I still hate the rain," Lyle mumbled to himself.

Glancing over to his bag, Lyle remembered the conversation with his Uncle Ray. Shuffling through his belongings, Lyle took out the Pokeball that supposedly contained the spirit of some Pokemon or something as he remembered. Inhaling a deep breath of smoke, Lyle stared at the Pokeball playing around in his imagination. "My father must be a fire type. Would explain why I hate the rain," Lyle concluded sarcastically. On several occasions, he had considered opening the ball refusing to believe his Uncle's story. It was a hard pill swallow. After all, he had to believe his mother loved Pokemon more than the next person. Or worse, believe that Pokemon spirits are capable of possessing people and then forcing the reproductive process to happen. Then again, it does explain a number of the strange events in Lyle's life including the day he roasted an entire gang. He hoped going out and wandering the world would lead him to an explanation for all this. Pessimism would say it was pointless to expect that answer to magically appear. For once, Lyle was trying to be optimistic.

The rain didn't die down at all in the span it took Lyle to finish his cigarette. Flicking the cigarette aside and packing up his bag, Lyle mounted his bicycle. A sign a while back said the city wasn't too far. I'll be there in no time, Lyle reasoned. Braving through the weather blind, Lyle trudged forward at a fair speed. Squinting as he pedaled, Lyle could see the lights of the city. "Almost there," Lyle called to no one in particular. However, a dark shadow appeared seemingly out of nowhere. The rain prevented his vision from deciphering the shadow's shape. It looked like a person and he did not want to be responsible for murder. Unable to slow down, Lyle veered to the right, crashing into the railing, rolling several yards landing with his face deep in mud and water.

"Arrgh," Lyle groaned in pain. "What the hell…was that?" Lyle rolled on the ground for a while hoping the pain would wash away. Picking himself off the wet ground, Lyle made sure his bag was in good shape and put it back on his back. His bike, while not ruined, was damaged. The chain looked usable, but dangerous to ride. He would have to hope there was a bike shop in town. With a sigh, Lyle then turned to his attention up the road a few yards. The shadow was still there standing in the dark rain. It appeared ominous and dangerous. Nevertheless, Lyle was a little more than angry.

"Hey you! Moron! What the hell were you doing in the middle of the road? I should have you to pay for a new bike you motherf-" As Lyle made his way to the figure, he began to notice something. Unless rain has the ability to distort vision, Lyle was going nuts. The figure wasn't a person. It was a Pokemon. At least it looked like one. Not like the ones his sister's friends had as a pets. One of those not so accepted ones.

"Kadabra!" It said.

"Yeah, I don't speak Pokemon. Now take the costume off, kid. Cough up some money while you are at it. I need to fix my bike," Lyle retorted with some anger. The Pokemon stared at him in response and titled its head in confusion. Lyle was not amused. "Alright fine. You wanna play Pokemon eh? Fine I'll play," Lyle chuckled. "Fire Punch!" Lyle winded up a punch and lunged forward. It wasn't a flaming fist but Lyle dreamt it was. Seconds before contact, the Pokemon disappeared. Lyle almost fell over his own feet. Spinning around looking for the Pokemon, Lyle began to panic. There was no obvious place to hide and how would it dodge his attack with less than second anyway. Turning around with a sigh, Lyle was then caught by surprise.

"Kadabra!" The Pokemon roared. With that, Lyle blacked out.


Light filtered through into Lyle's eyes. Slowly his vision was consumed by sunlight blasting through a few clouds. It was far warmer that it was before. Whatever happened earlier must of knocked him out. The Kadabra must of used some attack or something, Lyle said to himself in his head. Attempting to lift himself from the ground, Lyle took in the beautiful sky. it was a sun-filled sight. Lyle always preferred the bright sun over the dreary clouds. "Guess, the weather cleared up when I was out…wait a minute…" Lyle, now more awake, felt around. No longer was he surrounded by pavement, but instead found himself in thick green grass. His bike was gone too, but his bag was on the ground only a few inches away from his body. Lucky for him, as his bag was far more important. He could afford to lose the bike. Walking suited him fine. Dusting himself off and realizing his face was covered in dry mud, Lyle looked around at his new location. Nothing seemed familiar. It was a beautiful grassland with a few trees scattered across. Ideal weather too. Comfortable enough for him to keep his jacket on at least.

"Where am I?" Lyle wondered, pausing to take a deep breath. "Well, I won't find out standing around here. If I keep walking, I'll eventually find a road. Or maybe a town." With a new mindset of finding out where he ended up, Lyle lit up a cigarette and stared walking with no destination in mind hands in his pockets and his head held up high.

Paired with the beautiful Pikachu
Reply With Quote