[/REAL WORLD]
Name | Gorodetsky, Sergei Matveiovich
Gender | Male
Location | Moscow, Russia
Age | 20
Appearance | The first thought most people have about Sergei's appearance, is that he must be some sort of jock. To an extent, this is true. Towering over most people at six foot, two inches, and weighing over ninety kilograms, Sergei is one to pump weights and exercise, however he puts very little into these, being naturally fit contributing further to his hubris. Living in Moscow has allowed Sergei retain a pale white, natural skin. Soft, close cropped hair, almost number two all over sits on top of his head, a dark reddish brown in colour. Contrast to his hair is a pair of mesmerisingly light green eyes beneath a pair of brown eyebrows, not too thick, but not too thin either. His squarish jaw, with prominent cheek bones covered in short, spiky stubble alongside his physique gives Sergei the appearance of a high school jock, his arrogance adding further to this.
As far as clothing goes for Sergei, anything that shows of his musculature and is comfortable to move in is general what plagues his wardrobe. Long sleeved shirts are also a rarity with Sergei, as his arms are too big to fit through them, having the trouble of often ripping the fabric of the shirt sleeves. V-necked utility shirts are the most common shirts he will wear, usually in monochromatic colours, but a few having darker colours such as dark browns, dark blues and reds. On cold days, he will venture to wear jeans, but anything smaller than straight cut are too small for his legs, so most of his jeans are either boot cut or straight cut. He has been known on occasion to wear his military issue cargo pants from his time spent in the youth military. On warmer days, he will not hesitate to wear shorts or three-quarter pants, most of them being cargo, both dark and light to alternate with his shirts; he has a little bit of fashion sense, his other shorts are usually plain and darker in colour, with a wider range of colours. His shoes look a lot like this being a cross between cross-trainers and sneakers, as if he could pelt forward into a run at any time; with ankle socks in varying colours being worn in the shoes.
As far as accessories go, Sergei tries to keep it simple. A belt with a simple belt buckle will usually sit around the top of his shorts, not to secure them from falling down, but as mere additions to his clothing. An expensive silver analogue Rolex watch sits on his left hand, a flaunt of his families wealth and a way from Sergei to keep a track of the time. Although it is technically not an accessory, his teeth are quite white in colour, not from brushing, despite doing that twice a day now, but from being whitened by the dentist.
Personality | If we're talking about flaws here, then reliability is definitely Sergei's biggest followed closely by arrogance. Don't get him wrong, he's definitely trustworthy, trustworthy enough to hold your life in his hands and for him to keep it safe, but relying on him to do this would be your biggest mistake. Always one to move forward, he does not hesitate to leave others behind in his effort to achieve, arrive at a location, or to be the best. As such, relying on others and being relied upon his a big obstacle in his advances forward making his participation in a group much less a guild virtually non-existent with Sergei being one of the rather rare solo players. In the rare instance that he does join a group or guild, it doesn't last long as his commitment and reliability to the guild/group only comes second to himself. This of course leads onto his arrogance. Being and only child in a rich, upper-class Russian family has taught Sergei little of something called 'being humble'; in his eyes there is him and only him. He will not hesitate to flaunt not only his wealth, but also his successes, achievements as well as boasting about his ability to be better than everyone around him; even if this isn't true. If anyone were to try to knock him down a peg or two, he would not hesitate to use intimidation, fear and brute strength to undermine them and get his point across. If someone is talking, he would talk over top of them so his point is made, basically, he's your all around jerk.
but let's be serious here, he's not all that bad...
He may think he knows best and that his way is the 'right' way, but when proved wrong, he will, rather grudgingly, accept that he was wrong, however will not apologise for being so. His determination means that Sergei will push himself to the very end, doing whatever it takes to achieve his goals; whether this affects only himself or others as well is not something that will hold him back. Those who find themselves willing to persevere with Sergei's outward arrogance will find that he is extremely loyal to his friends. If ever they were to find themselves in trouble or needed a bit of cash to get them going, Sergei would be all to happy to help them out; the only downside being that he will not let them forget it nor until they pay him back. His size and musculature means that if he ever saw a friend in trouble, he would step in to protect them through intimidation and strength. Ultimately though, his loyalty isn't enough to justify the outwards arrogance he displays.
History | Growing up rich wasn't something on Sergei's wish list, but its something he wouldn't wish away. Especially in Russia where class still means everything, it meant a sheltered upbringing, only the most prestigious schools to attend, several roofs over his head and three meals everyday. However from the age of one week, he had more time being dealt with by a variety of maids and caregivers than with his parents. It wasn't such an estranged relationship, as he grew older, compulsory dinners with his family meant that he had valuable time with them, however aside from that, they were either busy with the family business or out socialising with high ranking officials. This tough love as well as the absence of his parents is most likely the main reason for Sergei growing up into the "man" he is today.
Within the bounds of school life, he found refuge in sporting and going to the gym. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, nor was he the thickest of the bunch, but he just wasn't one of those people who could sit down for hours at a time and focus on a blackboard when he would rather be outside winning against the competition. It was through sport that Sergei managed to expel the excess built up emotions that he kept to himself due to his parents absence. It was the thrill and adrenalin of overcoming and triumphing over opponents that gave Sergei the gateway to the competitive side of his arrogance. The more he progressed and fell into arrogance and competitiveness, the more he began to stray away from team orientated sports and towards one on one sports until he would ultimate refuse to join a group or, on the other hand, would strive to make himself the main star of the team.
Following on from finishing high school, he ended up in compulsory military training for the next year, continuing on this training in the form of conscription into the Russian Military for an extended year before returning to Moscow to study. While in the Military, he made his rounds travelling from the frigid plains of Siberia, to the wild Third World countries to the south. Not so surprisingly, the conscription and subsequent touring did little to change the arrogant negative side to Sergei's personality. Once he returned, he dove head first into his studies, not before stumbling upon an interesting MMORPG called "World of Digimon". Loving the confrontational nature of using his Digimon partner to fight others to the death, he enjoyed playing the game while making others feel miserable at the same time. A couple of months later came the announcement of the world-wide pre-release of [/TAMERS], and so, using a combination of his parents wealth, contacts he had made in the military and a bit of fear and intimidation, he landed a copy of the game and subsequently dove into the world of [/TAMERS].
[/DIGITAL WORLD]
YOUR AVATAR
Name | Atreyu
Gender | Male
Age | 18
Digivice Color | Deep Blue with an Electric Yellow trim.
Digimon-Modify Cards | Power, Speed, Alias!
Crest | Reliability
Appearance | Even Sergei's Avatar isn't exempt from his arrogance taking the form of a virtual form of his being. He still retains the same musculature and height as well as facial features and militarily cropped hair. The only difference is in his Avatar's clothing featuring his favoured military grade khaki coloured cargo pants, a black tank top and a pair of hiking boots from a brand well known for their strength and durability. For the idea of feeling warm in game, he has his khaki military grade over shirt, unzipped to reveal his tank top beneath. After two years in the army, its the only clothes he really feels comfortable wearing; even tailoring some game Avatar's such as this one to have those distinct clothing options.
DIGIMON
Species | Elecmon
Appearance | (link)
Personality | If there's anything worse than Sergei, it would be Sergei with Elecmon. Elecmon shares Sergei's arrogant determination to be the best and only the best. Like an Eveready Battery, he is always on the go, not wanting to slow down and stop; to the point that he will continually run circles around Sergei's legs. He enjoys the company of other Digimon, but only to the point where he can prove not only to them but also to himself that he is the best and is always willing to get into a fight; sometimes even provoking them not only between himself and another Digimon, but between other Digimon as well. On the odd occasion that he does slow down, he becomes docile and lethargic to the point that he will ignore Sergei's orders and sleep; even if it means loosing out on doing something first or being the best in a competition. A small electric shock is all it takes to get Elecmon back into his rather hyperactive state, which can last from a couple of hours to almost a week without slowing down.
To be brutally honest, Elecmon isn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Where the arrogant side of his brain blooms, the intelligence wanes and gives way. Things like battling come naturally and as such are easy for Elecmon to comprehend, however larger scale things that seem to not revolve around Elecmon like the passing of time or a plot within a plot are too much for Elecmon and he will simply ignore what is going on, or constantly ask questions until he can comprehend somewhat.
Digivolution ChainBaby: Pabumon
In-Training: Motimon
Rookie: Elecmon
Champion: Raidramon
Ultimate: Cyberdramon
Mega: Goldramon
Extra | Elecmon is purple?
RP Sample:Wyatt Cale – Lancaster, Lancashire, England
Wednesday, October 31st, 2012
Breathing in through his nose, Wyatt brought the bow string past his front shoulder until it grew taunt and tight; refusing to stretch further. In his head he turned the vanilla business card over and over watching the information disappear then reappear within one full rotation. With arrow notched and ready, he let out the breath slowly, feeling his lungs deflate but not letting go of the arrow just yet. In his mind’s eye he focused on the information embossed onto the card:
Daniel Cain
Directive
With all the air escaping into the chill afternoon breeze, he released the taunt string, watching as the arrow sailed through the air in an arc; striking the target in the distance a few centimetres below the bullseye. The crowd erupted into an orchestra of clapping and cheering as his third and final arrow saw him taking second in the National Archery Championships. He replaced the bow on the table behind him, picking up the thin wired framed glasses that allowed him to see the table more clearly. His heart beat faster as the cheering reached a crescendo and he smirked as his flatmates rose from their seats, screaming his name.
Now alone in his room, silver medal resting warmly against his chest, Wyatt again rotated the business card between his fingers, watching the name, title and number being replaced by a simple logo with a signal word written beneath. Just under two weeks ago while trialling for Nationals, a suited man approached him under the guise of some firm called the ‘Syndicate’, looking at funding him for future championships. Once alone, the man began talking to Wyatt about a fairy-tale civilization that sunk beneath the waves thousands of years ago and mysterious people with the ability to fly or hurl boulders. Wyatt cast him off as an absolute nutter, still accepting the business card the man put into his hands which he could not find the heart to throw away. Somehow it seemed important and that he would need it. What was a ‘Directive’ anyway? It seemed utterly ridiculous for someone to make a mistake on a business card, so the title must have been real or the card itself fake.
Picking up his cellphone from amongst the clutter on the bedside table, he dialled the number from the business card, putting the receiver to his ear, listening to the call ring through. After three rings it clicked and the same deep voice crackled into the ear piece that had spoken to him little over a week ago.
Daniel Cain speaking, yes Wyatt?”
Wyatt stopped in his tracks, obviously the man had some sort of caller ID on his phone that must have flashed up his name when he called, but the fact he had addressed him by name in the first instance scared him a little.
”Uh, Mr. Cain, yeah, it’s Wyatt speaking, well, I want to take you up on your offer.”
“Alright then, how soon can you be picked up?”
“What do you mean? What for?”
“We’ll need you to come in so we can have a better look at you.”
“That sounds quite creepy, I’m not too sure I want to do this now.”
“If you want to control this, then I suggest you come in. We’ll have someone come pick you up in soon.”
Wyatt was speechless as the phone clicked and the call ended. Sure, he wanted to control this ability of his but he was under the impression that they would help him outside of work and practice, not taking off to somewhere else.
A knock at the door turned into Wyatt’s flatmate bursting in to his room, launching herself onto him and giving him a big hug.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come, my boss wouldn’t let me take the day off; that slave-driving, perverted scum…” Anastasia mumbled into Wyatt’s shoulder as she embraced him. Still quite stunned from the previous conversation with Daniel Cain, Wyatt only half-heartedly returned the embrace.
“Silver, right,” she played with the medal that hung around Wyatt’s neck, “Varsity Nationals, and you take second place,”
“It’s nothing big, only second place,” he replied rather nonchalantly.
“Nothing big? Out of the entire British Empire, you are the second best Archer!”
“For Varsity level…”
“Hurry up and get changed,” Anastasia rose from his lap, heading for the door; “Mark and Travis are going to pick us up in roughly ten minutes.”
Wyatt let out a deep sigh before resting his head against the wall, more than anything he wanted to just go to sleep, exhausted and slightly sunburnt from the day, but Anastasia insisted that they go out to celebrate. He jumped as, out of the corner of his eye, a boy about two or three years younger than himself appeared on top of his desk chair.
“Who the hell are you?” Wyatt called as he rolled over the bed, dropping to the floor and bringing up the Bo Staff hidden beneath his bed.
“Woah, settle down, eh?” The kid spoke as he wiped sweat from his brow, Wyatt catching a glimpse of a strange watch that took up half the kid’s forearm.
“Why are you in my room? How’d you get in here?”
“Oh, sorry for scaring ya, the name’s Jeremy, Jeremy Fisher. I was sent by Mr. Cain to retrieve you.”
“Uh, well I have plans, so you’re going back without me. Wasn’t he going to send a car instead?”
“I’m the envoy, if I’m not mistaken, we’re related.” Before Wyatt could even ask how Jeremy lifted up his shirt, revealing his ribcage detailed with thin black lines and when he swivelled around, Wyatt could see the black lines joining at his spine.
Wyatt stared at the marks, subconsciously reaching around and rubbing the mark on the back of his neck that had appeared mysteriously two weeks ago. Ever since then, Ava had avoided him around university, even to the point of not showing up to practices. On the odd occasion she did, she would look at him out of the corner of her eye and try to avoid his gaze. Whatever was going on with her, he knew it had to do with his tattoo.
Taking a quick glance at his watch, Jeremy stretched his hand out to Wyatt, “we’ve got limited time, are ya coming or not?”