Kay, regardless of placement or w/e, Alter if you can find time, go over this please? With your evil fine-tooth comb of doom despair and destruction
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Full Given Name: Kain Andrew Romano
Nicknames : Dr. Kain, Kain. (He has the nickname 'Mr. Squishy' but those who call him by this name often find themselves... well... let's not go into detail, shall we? ; )
Position (Wanted at least): School Doc
Gender: Male
Age: 35
Appearance: The words, 'tall dark and handsome' do not even begin to describe Kain. He looks like someone who’s just walked off a model runway and yet, if you look closely, you would see where his work has left its mark. Underneath his typical lab coat, tank top, black/tan cargo pant getup lies a maze of sore and often plaguing muscle aches and joint problems from the years he spent on his research. His hair, despite the strain he’d put on his body, is still the moppy dark brown slightly waved hair often covered in a bandana of some sort to keep the strays from slipping into his eyes. Like the left pocket of his lab coat these bandanas are never to be touched by anybody unless they have elicit permission and they stay within vision of Kain unless otherwise noted. Refusal to abide by these rules results in nothing but pain agony and the like to some extent or another and rarely does he make exceptions. His eyes are the most convincing part of his features because of their unique coloring. While they are considered brown, they have a redish tint to them that makes them look as red as the eyes of those creatures in childhood fables. They always cause a stir among crowds and people in general who find these eyes, tho they are hidden by a pair of rectangular silver frames for the most part, frighteningly similar to those of the darkness that lingers in every person's memory. While he has become accustomed to being gawked at, it's not the highlight of his day when an ignorant fool calls him a demon. On the days he does not wear the required attire (Or so he believes) of a shrink, one might find him in well-fitting darkwash jeans and a t-shirt of some sort along with a sweatshirt if the weather demands it. Such instances of Kain not in his work attire are rare (Aside from those who happen to see the man in his private chambers, he sleeps in a pair of cotten boxers plus a pair of sweatpants if he is cold) and as such, many do not recognize who they are dealing with until they lock eyes with him. He only dresses in such casual wear when it is all but enforced on him, he finds his work attire much more comfortable and more efficient for what he needs to do.
Personality: Kain is not the nice doctor who slips his students favors both above and below the table. He takes things at a very literal level and while he tends to keep what he thinks is his business his business, he does not sugar coat things for his students beyond what must be done to maintain certain levels of sanity. While this has made him both popular and unpopular by staff and students alike (As he does not sugar coat things for his co-workers either and tends to say somewhat rude, but very true, things when his nerves are pushed beyond a sane level) he does not seem to be swayed by public opinion and is given harder-to-crack students because, as stubborn as they may be, he trumps them nine times out of ten. He hasn't once said to a superior, 'I no longer want this client' or 'I no longer want this patient' because, in his mind, doing so is admitting defeat. He'll force them into submission if nessacary and does not believe in such things as 'physical enforcement of rules and slight use of intimidation' are words of truth in reference to his work. Many a time he's pinned a client in the corner of his office until they comply with his set of rules and regulations. Has he been fired over it? No.
But he is not heartless. He cares very deeply for the younger range of his students, treating them as his own children and, while he has a bit of a temper and lashes out from time to time, both mentors and deciphers each student's individual problems. A student he knows somewhat well falling ill or becoming seriously injured makes his ulcers act up and causes Kain to become irritable until the problem is fixed or at least returned to its prior state before the relapse occurred. His is often ribbed because of his soft-heartedness and true love for his students (Tho, those who try and get him to say that end up in bushes. Behind buildings. Where the cameras dun shine) hidden beneath his frosty exterior but he doesn’t mind it, it’s simply what he does. He is often told he is overprotective of his ‘children’ and nothing could be farther from the truth. If a patient of his is attacked, he will make an attempt to ‘personally’ handle the perpetrator himself, almost always in a blind rage of sorts. This sort of rage stems from a past experience he’d rather not dicuss that has left his professional profile with its one and only blemish beyond certain dislikable character traits he really can’t do anything about.
History:
I dropped a marble
When I chased after it
I dropped another
Only one remains in a single sunny spot
Since he was born, Kain has been beyond ordinary. Reading before he was toilet-trained, he has always seemed to enjoy learning and books much more than other things children his age fancied. Be it playing army or with plastic cars and other destructive violent playground games most boys enjoyed, Kain preferred to stay out of it, shoving his nose in a book while the neighboorhood came to life around him. His parents, specifically his mother, feared that school life, for a ‘nerd’ like her precious son, would prove dangerous because he was not the average Joe. She enrolled him in the local Tae Kwon Do class for children his age, wanting to protect him from, somewhat literally, himself.
Nether the less, school proved a challenge for Kain. He was, beyond all reasonable doubt, a nerd. His academic knowledge placed him, at the tender influential age of nine, into a fifth grade class and, in effect, all but threw him like a lamb to a pack of starving wolves. Several months into the year and Kain had been in the headmaster’s chambers more times than he would like to admit. Seeing there was truly no place for a boy of his size and knowledge at a public elementary school, he recommended that the boy be sent to a school for people of his intelligence. It would prove to be the worst mistake his parents could have ever made and, in truth, did ever make.
The moment their hearts begin to beat
Like it or not people claim their own place
They keep protecting it so that
It isn't snatched away
Kain became even more secluded at the new school and chose not to retaliate against the bullies after the tormenting took a left turn at a place it should never have reached. Before he turned ten, Kain knew more about certain subjects in life that few people ever truly experience such as he had. Internalizing the pain, Kain pushed forward, excelling higher than any other student to prior attend the halls of Galloway Prep School for the Gifted. While this caused some actions and nightmare-inducing ordeals, the boy hardened his heart and, after a year, felt nothing as the older boys, threatened by this child, treated him like a punching bag, something below human levels. By the time he entered his final year in highschool, he had completely hardened his heart. At least, until he met her. She was an exchange student, a few years younger and just as smart as he. She was named Kiara and she would become something so embedded in his heart that it would never be able to be removed.
When they originally met, they were fierce rivals. He had held the top position in the school’s academic hierarchy every term until she arrived and then, low and behold, she defeated him in a land slide victory. Determined to beat this new pestilence, Kain set out to study harder than ever. He never once imagined he would fall for her. Things happened quicker than either of them imagined. At one of the practice exams, required to take an official exam to pass into college free of charge, Kain, suffering from an attack the night before, passed out on his desk. When he came to, he was in his room on his bed, Kiara asleep on his ankles. [Author's Note: She fell asleep, fully clothed mind you, on his ankles in the hospital. Because he fainted.] It wasn’t the start they would have probably wanted to have but, none the less, it was a start. A year and a half later, just months after they had both graduated high school, they were married
Though I kept my hands clean,
They look dirty
Before I doubt my memory
My memory will doubt me
Kain had everything a man could want. He had a steady high paying job at the local hospital counseling wayward teens who simply needed a second chance, a beautiful faithful wife and a bubbly child who had her daddy wrapped around each of her little fingers. The spitting image of her parents, the child’s long blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight, her eyes sparkled like her mommy’s and her angelic voice was like nothing Kain had ever heard or rather, would ever hear. She was the treasure of the tiny family and, growing inside Kiara’s ever expanding belly, was the son of every father’s dream. He had everything he ever could have wanted and then, as most things do in such stories, his life took a sudden wrong turn.
One of his patients had a particular nasty ex, an ex who was angry with Kain for his work in undoing the brutal relationship that had left his finacee with broken bones and slashed wrists and more importantly, a broken spirit. For months he plotted his revenge, revenge so terrible it would make wounds that would never heal. When he finally executed his plan, he happened upon a problem. Kain had children. Tanpopo, the oldest child, was five and screamed when she saw him, causing his whole idea of jump-up-behind-the-victim-and-stabby-stab to fly out the window. Nervous and high on crystal meth, he unloaded the first of his bullets, all of which had been intended for Kiara, into the girl’s head. He then proceeded to shoot Kiara with the remainder of the clip in his pistol and was about to leave when he discovered the now wailing baby in the playpen. Out of bullets, he simply smothered the baby with a pillow and left the house. Kain came home with just enough time to say goodbye to his family before they died, Tanpopo wiping away her Daddy’s tears before she succumbed to the fatal wound.
We'll meet each other for sure
Making our identical heartbeats into our landmarks
I am here, because I'm always calling
When our worn-out motives overlap and tremble,
I'll know the meaning behind my birth
Kain snapped. He hunted down the boy and put him through more pain than any mortal should ever experience in a lifetime. The courts called it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. They sent him back to work. Thus, he's found his way to the Academy, landing a job as both a substitute teacher... and the school's only physician.
Other (Optional): Kain is a registered doctor/shrink (Assuming they exist. o-o; ) Kay? Kay.
RP Sample:
There was nothing Kain could do to hide his brief bought of happy, He'd been just about to skip, yes skip down the hallways in happy joy as the five minute waiting period had been seconds away from completion when Mr. Happy Go-Lucky Sunshine just had to walk around the corner and simply had to find it nessacary to open that trap on his face that most people around here preferred shut at all times (If not aided by ducktape or other means of natural silencing techniques) and just had to force Kain out of his momentairly happy.
Before entering the room, Kain couldn't help a glare upwards and a inward mind shrug followed by a very unhappy comment or two, I help your children, I take care of those others have abanadoned, I don't molest children and yet you still say, 'Let's make Kain's day just a wonderful day' and give me him. There's something wrong about that. Something sick. And. Wrong. Sighing himself, he stepped in, shut the door and took the dead-cow chair (IT was leather but it looked like it still had the brand mark on the left armpiece so it was known as the Dead-Cow Chair and the name stuck) in a very professional mannor, his demenour matching Ash's in that of forced pleasentries, "Making the rounds I see?" And being nearly ten minutes late to our meeting? Sure, I'm not saying I'm guiltless, I was five minutes late, but it's still your freakin fault... somehow.
OR
"Off on the amount?" He blinked, tilting his head in mock confusion that wouldn't be caught as mock confusion unless you were incredably sharp and knew exactly how Kain mocked things which, he was pretty sure at least, Ash couldn't prove as of yet. "...am I prescribing too little? Too much? I have just recently been moved to your build sir and just recently been given a slew of new patients. Like any other doctor, including yourself, wouldn't you admit that there is a period of trial and error in the medication and theraputical process? You do not always hit your mark directly on the first try, sometimes it can take one or several more to hit it dead on. I do believe it was you yourself who told me this, wasn't it?" Oh he had him there. Yes, Ash could follow the very intelligent assumption that Kain had been doping down the drugs for some of the patients but while he most likely had the 'gut feeling' that this was true, he had no evidence to back it up that could not also back up Kain's story of 'Trial and Error'. He'd been in Ash's building for around two months now (Moved so the senior doctor could keep a closer eye on him) which was still in the technical trial phase for most of his patients, "And you know my belief on medicating only as nessacary and as much as nessacary. What hope is there for healing, at least to the point of being able to function in a semi normal life, when a patient is so drugged they can hardly use the facilities?"
Yawning lightly, he paused, covering his mouth for politeness's sake, "...excuse me, I have not had a change to drink any coffee this morning." He continued, keeping his tone deadly respectful so the senior doctor could find no fault in it, "Was there anything else you needed me to...make clear?" Or could we maybe, just maybe, end this early. Because you see, I've got a ton of work to do and me staring at your beautiful face for such a long time gets nothing done other than that growing urge to find an eject button on this dead cow chair and send you through that bullet proof glass window behind you.... Hahah... Cows go moo..... Inwardly laughing at his little very immature but very helpful pick-me-up, he again focused his eyes on Ash's own, matching the other's intimidation level, "Or are we transitioning into less pleasent points of conversation?"
OR MAYBE EVEN
"Steven... Sera's already fighting with Baan. Why don't you and I... tango." She twisted one of three pokeballs off of her wrist, the staff falling into her left hand, "It's been awhile anyways, since I defeated you last." She tilted her head softly, a serene sort of smirk spreading across her face, "Why don't we see if you're still worth my time." It was true. While the circumstances hadn't been in Steven's favor, he had lost a rather embarassing fight to Mika the last time they had encountered eachother. It was something no man could easily take, a defeat at the hands of a mere child, and Mika was hoping to poke a hole in the other's seemingly cool demenor and force out the anger not many people knew existed.
It didn't work. Steven was under strict orders not to provoke Mika, the Commandant had all but screamed that doing so might result in Mika injuring herself. Steven, personally, didn't really give a miltank about injuring her. She was a crimminal. Weren't they, as law enforcers, allowed to beat the guilty into submission as long as it wasn't detected by the general public? As much as he wanted to, he had to follow orders. Biting down on his lip, he regained control of his anger and turned towards Mika with the same unreadable look he'd given her prior, "No, as much as you'd like it, I cannot allow myself to fall to your level to, as you said, fight." He raised a hand towards Baan and the trainer annoyedly withdrew his battered pokemon (but not before sticking his tounge out at Sera) "I have a message to you, from the Commandant." Noting Mika's expression did not change, not that he expected it to, he continued, "He says he's glad to see you out of the hos-"
"He didn't exactly send flowers"
"It wasn't like he could. Rocket bases are so tricky to get into these days without causing royal hell to ice over."
"And yet you G-Men have learned nothing from us. Your bases are still as pathetic as they were six years ago. Nothing's changed beyond a passcode here and a firewall there. You can't even aim your cameras correctly for pete's sake..."
"Touche. Prehaps it would be good for us to revamp our system..." Blinking off the feeling and the very obvious (And very well played out mind you) distraction technique before he turned, taking Mika by the wrist in such a sudden movement, the girl had no time to react, no one would have. Pressing his lips to her ear, he mumbled something beyond the ears of the others present and stepped back, casting a fleeting, sickening look at Serra before turning towards Baan and started to walk back in that general direction, leaving the ashen leader to her misery...or so he thought.
Her own hand snapped out, catching his shoulder before he could get anywhere, "...He can't. It's forbidden, forbidden in every single one of my-our teachings! It's... it's insanity!" Steven brushed the girl off, shoving his hands into his pockets, shrugging his shoulders at her obvious fear and attempt to hide the growing hysteria. He couldn't help a smirk; it still hadn't fully dawned on her yet, "You know him as well as I do Mika, he doesn't care. Nor do I for that matter."
"You know the number of casualties that would cause, you know..." And then, like a bolt of lightning, the hidden message revealed itself, "You can't mean..."
"With the seals closed, you're vulnerable. If you can't open the seals in the given time frame, which with our added security to each place will be virtually impossible, you'll have no physical choice." He tilted his head back to the sky, laughing softly as a few drops of rain fell from the sky, "Just a tool, that's all wayward children like you are good for nowadays. If only you hadn't run when we took you the first time, if only you'd stayed. Then maybe things like this... wouldn't be nessacary."
She couldn't take it anymore. With the downpour threatening to slip from the clouds at any second and a Charizard still on the playing field, she couldn't hold back her punches. Flicking her wrist in Sera's direction to withdraw her pokemon, she slid a hand to the pokeball on her wrist, slipping it into her palm as discreatly as she could, "A tool Steven? Oh yes, the perfect example of that would be your daughter, wouldn't it now. Your precious little doll, trapped in her home to be stared at. I doubt she still has Storm, did you take him away to, to keep her at home?" Smirking, she wasn't suprised to see his gaze turn sour almost instantly, "You're just as guilty as Lance and you know it."
His mask shattered, Steven was too far gone into his ego-damaged rage to with-hold himself anymore. Turning towards Baan, he jerked a pokeball off his waist, "Withdraw your Pokemon Baan and leave." The boy, who had since Steven's arrival simply stood with a holier than thou smile on his face, turned and with a light tuff of the hair, withdrew his badly battered Jolteon and exited down into the car from which he had came after thanking Sera oh-so-sarcastically for the battle, "It was fun little girl, maybe next time when we play, I'll actually fight with my full strength. You're worth it I think."
With that, he was gone, disappeared into the blackness of the tunnel that the train had suddenly been pressed into. Much like the blackness of a new moon covered in a layer of overcast clouds, there was not even enough light to see a hand infront of a face. Still, in the darkness, Steven did not stop his mouth from moving, "Fine Mika. You want a fight, I'll give you one. But that girl stays out of it... and you fight me without holding back." He wanted a re-match, he deserved a re-match. If she touched the power Lance would have his head but if she didn't, he'd be fighitng a trainer who wasn't using thier starter, their highest leveled most treasured pokemon or their most well rounded team. It wouldn't be right and it would't feel right either, "One on one, to begin when we exit the tunnel's blackness which should happen in about five minutes. You've that long to prepare." Years of training in caves with his beloved steel types had trained him to see like a cat, he could funciton in this blackness just fine. Mika, at least he thought,could not do the same.
She sighed, rubbing her forehead before turning on her heels to Sera, "Climb back down. It's three steps backward and you'll hit the ladder. Get down on your hands and knees if it makes you more comfortable. You don't have to, it's not an order yet, but if you stay and witness what's about to happen and you tell Blue or Kain, I'll be forced to do bad things to you." Turning her back on the trainer, she gave her a final glare before returning the staff to its prior mode and attached it to her neck. If she was going to use it from the purest source, she didn't need the enhancer. Not for Steven. It would drain her of most of her reserve energy and she'd probably be stuck at the pokemon center in Goldenrod for a day but it was all worth it. At least, she hoped so.
Raising her arms to the sky, she closed her eyes and pulled them down, mumbling something under her breath. Her body glowing a soft light green, the surface wounds on her arms from her earlier spat with Sera vanished and as the tunnel emerged, Mika had fully assimilated with the forest. Releasing the pokeball, her eyes slowly opened, revealing a bright spirit filled yellow tint rather than the minty green it had previously been. Ignoring the pain in her chest, she threw the pokeball she'd previously hidden just as the trio was thrust into dawnlight, "Antiklian, assistance please."
The male of her twin Dragonair, Antiklian, emereged from the bright light of the normal greatball, cooing softly as he wound around Mika's ankle and waist for a moment, enjoying the soft pets she gave him before she waved her hand towards the space between the two trainers, hissing like mad at Steven who, out of concern for the area surrounding, had sent out his Skarmory who was screeching at this excuse for an opponent at a pitch purposely driven a half step sharp for pure torture. Sky diving in the typical Ariel Ace format, as Steven had commanded him before letting him out of his prision of a pokeball, he watched Mika's mouth for movement and, seeing none, saw no reason to be cautious and fully charged the still hissing dragon with more fury than a charmander who's tail had almost been doused with a careless child's glass of water. He didn't expect the Flamethrower that nailed him in the face on his arrival at his target nor did he expect the follow up Body Slam and Ice Beam that shortly followed. By the time it was all over, the dragonair hadn't even broken a sweat and Steven looked humiliated. She hadn't even moved, her eyes hadn't even changed. She'd controled her pokemon by Channelling. Lance was going to have his rear end on a silver platter... and there was nothing he could do about it except retreat. Annoyed with himself, he tossed the overused smoke ball into the the area between and, when the smoke had cleared, he was gone without anything left to trace him by.
Releasing her hold on the Source, Mika withdrew the Dragonair and turned towards Sera's general location. Regardless of what the girl had decided to do, Mika needed to get off this roof and she need to get off it now. Wincing visibly, she scurried down the ladder and, after noting Sera's location, blurrily explained they needed to head back to the cabin and headed there at the fastest pace any person would blink past. Once inside, she didn't even wave at the rest of group, she turned towards Blue, mumbled something along the lines of 'I couldn't let him take Sera' and all but collapsed on the open spot on the bench, looking white as snow. A few moments passed and she was able to somewhat function, at least for now, "...So, how did your respective missions go? Askan, did you behave properly and did you run into another GMan prehaps?" Her forearm over her eyes, she could at least breathe a little better now. She'd have to explain this to Sera later and Mika wasn't looking forward to it. It wasn't a story she liked to tell.
"I got a little too much air up there. Now, what did any of you find out, if anything?"
Last edited by Mika; August 1st, 2007 at 03:13 AM.
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