Post by nathandriscoll on Oct 20, 2010 21:27:48 GMT -7
NATHAN RHETT DRISCOLL
"come josephine in my flying machine
and it's up she goes, up she goes
balance yourself like a bird on a beam
in the air she goes, there she goes"
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I AM BEYOND GOD
[/font]I AM HUMAN
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Full Name: Nathan Rhett Driscoll
Nickname(s): Nate
Gender: Male
Age: Sixteen
Birthdate: January 23, 1994
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Reincarnate: Yes
I am: Wilbur Wright
Played By: Keir Gilchrist
Grade: Junior
Boarding: Yes
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OUR SHINING FUTURE
[/font]IN REVOLT
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Height: 5’10”
Weight: 154
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown
Build: Thin
Scars: None
Piercings/Tattoos: None
Personal Style: Nathan lacks any discernable fashion sense, as he is more concerned with his research than he is his clothes. Generally he is the type to throw on whatever he finds first, generally leading to the contents of his closet to be spread out across the floor. He dresses more for comfort than style, but even more than that he dresses for convenience rather than both. So long as he can go out in public without being arrested for indecency, he is content with whatever he’s wearing. Even as his manner of dress is generally sloppy, his lack of concern with his appearance only increases when he sinks to a depressive state, in such instances he dresses even more slovenly.
Appearance: Nathan has a considerably lanky build. His legs appear short, though perhaps owing only to his exceptionally long torso. Coupled with long, gangly arms, he gives off the illusion that he is top heavy. All in all he has a pinched look about him, perhaps because he is so tall, and yet lacks any true muscle definition. He has a naturally lightly tanned skin tone, which gives him something of a healthy look to counterbalance, his lack of tone and well proportioned body. Certainly Nathan has the ability to put on decent weight as well as build himself up, but his appearance is truly the byproduct of his interests. He is not an athlete, nor does he have any interest in an extensive virile appearance as do most boys his age.
Nathan’s facial features do not particularly stand out. He has what can be considered a common combination of dark features. His hair is a chestnut brown, which he wears short, with no particular style. His eyes too are a deep shade of brown, so dark that even in decent lighting they can appear almost black.. Perhaps his only notable facial feature is his slightly overlarge nose. Though Nathan is not one to be overly concerned with his physical appearance, he does find his larger nose an annoyance, and one physical flaw he would prefer to do without.
HOPE AND HORROR[/font]
MIXED IN BLOOD[/size][/center]
Likes: Aeronautics, disassembling and reassembling mechanical objects, old photographs of his mother, science, reading, writing, popcorn, cheesy B-movies, energy drinks, classic video games
Dislikes: Sports (especially hockey), smoking, people who obsess over fashion, the macho (tool, douchebag, etc) stereotype that so many teenage boys strive to fit, narrow minded people, rain, most religions, most pop music, talking on the phone for extended periods of time, most reality shows
Dreams: To invent the first flying car, to meet Orville again
Fears: Dying at an early age, ultimate failure, losing someone else close to him
Habits/Hobbies: Drawing up mini schematics in the corners of textbooks, collecting and building model airplanes, rebuilding remote control cars to make them fly, folding paper airplanes and throwing them across crowded rooms
Secret(s): Actually wants to find a girlfriend this time around, though is worried he will have to make the same choice between a woman and an airplane, to some degree, he is considering once again giving up a potential love life for his intended work.
Personality:
Generally, Nathan is very self-assured. He puts faith in his abilities and talents, and also considers himself disciplined to a certain degree. His confidence, though, can on occasion cause him to be a bit too self-confident, especially evident when working in a team. He will give himself the credit of the bulk of the work done, and will, more often than not; consider himself to be the leader. This can be thought to be an annoying, if arrogant quality at times. Too, he is quite confident in his abilities in school, as Nathan is decidedly more studious than most his age. He actually makes a point to do his homework, as he plans for a bright future for himself. To which point he can even be seen as an overachiever to a certain degree. Just as he takes initiative in school, he does so as well in all other projects he attempts. He stands by the philosophy that one is not deserving of achievement if one does not work for it, and that a dream is only a dream if one does not take the first step towards making it a reality. So if Nathan wants something, he will make a point to seek it out and work for it. If he thinks he can achieve something, he will work tirelessly to make sure he does. On occasions, he cannot see his own limitations, a fault to which he can work hard to a fruitless end. But Nathan, by his own creed, believes that a man makes his own limitations, and if he does not create any, then he has none.
Nathan is outgoing to a fair median, if not slightly less. He is by no account a social butterfly, nor a member of the popular ‘in’ crowd, but he has a decent array of friends and acquaintances, making him at least well known. This stems perhaps from his considerable public speaking ability. Though not always completely comfortable in a room full of strangers, he can speak well enough to seem witty and can carry on an interesting conversation. At best, people see him as quirky, and in the very least memorable. With his offbeat charm he has been able to attract friends over the years, and most often keep them. As awkward as social situations can be, he knows better than to shy away from them completely, as each new meeting is a new opportunity, and like all teenagers, he does have a certain yearning to be liked. Still, he does his best not to force his company on others, knowing that he enjoys his space, and expects everyone else enjoys the same. Though he cannot always relate to his peers, he likes having friends all the same.
Even as he is outgoing, Nathan is prone to bouts of depression. They come and go without any particular pattern, and stay for varying intervals. When depression does hit him, though, it takes a great toll on him. During which times, Nathan chooses to shut himself away from the world, refusing to talk to anyone and refusing the company of friends in favor of sulking and moping about. It is during these depressions that mark his periods of inactivity, and general loss of the self-confidence he usually carries. The break in these depressions vary from either a spark of initiative within him, to give him a renewed sense of self-worth, or more often, a persistent friend who forces him out of it. Truthfully, Nathan can be intolerably miserable when he hits a low point, which often strikes weariness among his friends. Even though Nathan considers himself considerably emotionally level, it is his tendency toward depression proves that he can be just as much a hormonal mess as the rest of his peers.
Nathan is considerably level headed, whereas in the tumultuous teenage years most young boys are prone to increasing displays of aggressiveness, he finds himself slower to anger. Truthfully Nathan does become annoyed often, typically as teenagers do, but his displays of annoyance are short and simple. Nathan sees no point in dramatic rage. He finds it boorish when he hears other boys talk at great length about fights they’ve been in, and finds it annoying to hear them constantly scream at each other. He has been criticized for diminished masculinity in his unwillingness to fight constantly and his generally calm demeanor. He does his best not to let the criticisms affect him, to which he contents himself to knowing he engages in and supports competition, so long as it’s not born of hormonal rage. Though Nathan rarely displays a temper, when he does, it is decidedly intense and considerably intimidating. He is not particularly quick to apologize to someone who has made him considerably angry, as in his eyes his anger is justified, reasoning that rage coming from a generally calm individual (as he considers himself) is almost, if not always, deserved.
PRETTY BOY, PRETTY GIRL
[/font]PRETTY INSANE[/size][/center]
Mother: Carrie Driscoll, 40, Secretary (deceased)
Father: Jonathan Driscoll, 48, teacher
Siblings: Alison Driscoll, 12
Other: None
Pets: None
Hometown: Bristol, Tennessee, USA
History:
Jonathan Driscoll moved to Tennessee from Ohio, having finally found a job to put his degree to use. It was awkward in the least, a new job in a new town, far from his family and friends. Yet with grace he assumed his new role as an English teacher at Tennessee High School in Bristol. Though generally liked among his students, the rest of the faculty seemed to put him at initial distance, save one Carrie Andrews, a young secretary at the school. The two got along well, which led them to meet for lunch every day, which ultimately led to a relationship. Initially it proved to be quite the scandal within the school among the staff. Though when the talk died down, Jonathan emerged much more well liked among his fellow teachers, as Carrie had been well liked among the faculty. Two years later, the pair were married, and a year later Carrie gave birth to their first child, Nathan.
The two were proud parents, and never missed an opportunity to show off their son. Oftentimes Jonathan’s family would fly in from Ohio, and Carrie’s from North Carolina to visit the family. Carrie’s mother remarked once that she was certain Nathan would grow to be a precocious and curious child. As he grew, she could not have been proven more right. Nathan proved curious to a degree that often frustrated his parents, as by four years old he would tear through the house, and had a special taste for dismantling anything he could. It was when he was four that a new addition came to the family, a little girl, Alison. Nathan took mild interest in her at first, but discarded her as a bore until she could talk, at which point he took on a habit of terrorizing her. Alison had difficulty speaking, to which Nathan would take ample pleasure in mocking her. Only when his parents told him to stop did he say simply, “She sounds like Orville. I think it’s funny.” When his parents questioned him as to just who Orville was, Nathan remarked, “My brother.”
His father explained calmly (though disconcerted) that he had no brothers, only a sister. Nathan quickly spouted off the names of his other ‘siblings,’ Lorin and Reuchlin, Katharine and Orville. Again, his father assured him that none of those people were his siblings. Nathan wrote him off, saying that Orville at least was probably at Kitty Hawk. While his father was concerned, his mother took interest in the idea. Being from North Carolina, and being particularly interested in history herself, she knew very well the story of the Wright Brothers, and assured her husband that their son was just as precocious as her mother had predicted, and had probably read about the Wright Brothers somewhere in a book, and wanted to play pretend that he could be one of them. Though Jonathan disagreed at first, Carrie fed into what she thought to be a fantasy, she bought Nathan a model airplane. Nathan, quite thrilled, immediately delved into assembling it, disassembling it, and reassembling it, making comments about the changes in design. A dormant fascination with flight ignited in him again, and by the time he was ten, he had developed an outright obsession with aeronautics.
His father, though glad his son had taken on a hobby, also tried to introduce him to sports, a hobby of his own. He took Nathan out to play hockey with several of his friends’ sons. Nathan very promptly declined, saying, “after what happened last time? No.” Jonathan was still very much unable to comprehend the situation, and sought counsel with his wife, wondering if perhaps Nathan should see a psychiatrist for his “prolonged fantasies.” Carrie dismissed the idea again, still seeing no harm in it, and admonishing her husband for thinking their son needed to change, after all, his interests were in the very least productive. But to Nathan, it was more than an interest. For years now he had been having dreams, most often involving testing a prototype airplane, dubbed the “Wright Flyer.” Still others involved a print shop, a bicycle shop, and myriad exploits with the brother he was told he never had. But Nathan pushed his dreams by the wayside, working tirelessly in his waking hours, pouring over new prototypes of aircraft. Had he not been doing well in school, he was quite certain his father would have taken away his model planes, which had taken up nearly all the space in his bedroom. By the time he was 12, his mother had decided to indulge his love of aeronautics even more.
The family took a trip to Carrie’s home state of North Carolina to visit the Wright Brothers National Memorial. What she thought to be merely treat for Nathan, stirred up a sea of memories. It was truly surreal, as he was so certain he had walked this same path before, and spent years testing gliders. He found it even stranger as their tour guide narrated the story, that he knew it to be punctured with inaccuracies. He knew better than what they were saying, and yet he wondered how. He returned home, surly and confused, and spent a great deal of time brooding over the matter until he took to research. How was it possible to have memories from someone else’s life? His research led him to the possibility of reincarnation. The more he read on the subject, the more sense it seemed to make. Yet, it did not make any sense at all, but it stood true for him. His memories were those of Wilbur Wright. He had been, as impossible as it seemed, reincarnated.
Now having a firmer grasp on both his identity and memories, he began to explore new concepts. If he could create the first airplane, perhaps he could make other things fly. The possibility of a flying car crossed his mind, and he started his research into the subject, thinking only the project might be more fun were Orville around. But then life took a turn for the worst, that same year, his mother fell ill. Diagnosed with Small Cell Lung Cancer, Carrie’s health deteriorated rapidly. Nathan spent as much time as he could to care for her, so much so that his grades began to slip severely. A new wave of unpleasant memories rose up in him. In his past life he had cared for his dying mother as well, and thought it a bitter and cruel joke that he should have to do the same again. Even as Carrie underwent intensive chemotherapy, it was apparent that she would lose her battle with cancer. So, on her deathbed, Nathan approached her with his secret. It had been his mother who had made it possible for him to realize his identity, who had stood behind his dreams. “Mom, I just wanted to tell you. I’m not just me. I’m Wilbur Wright. I was reincarnated.” His mother, unable to speak at that point, wrote him a scribbled note: “I know.” Several days later, Carrie lost her battle with cancer.
Bitter and grieving, Nathan buried his mother, along with his secret. He fell into a depression that summer, abandoning his dreams of inventing a flying car, not caring for his memories, not caring for anything else but his sorrow. His family in that summer seemed to fall apart. His father spent increasing amounts of time out of the house, and Alison refused to speak to anyone. It was only nearing the new school year that some semblance of an intact family was attempted. Jonathan suggested that he could request to be Nathan’s teacher, now that he was entering high school. But Nathan objected to attending Tennessee High. Instead, he requested to attend Riverdale High in North Carolina, where his mother had gone. Jonathan did not seem too keen on the idea, but only when Nathan insisted passionately that it was the only way he could keep up a sense of normalcy by keeping her close in his life did his father agree. So upon start of term, Nathan arrived in North Carolina.
For two years he had attended the school, slipping in and out of depression every so often. Still, with the years and with time, Nathan regained a sense of his old self, and began to work more vigorously on his schematics for his flying car. He maintained a decent amount of friends, as well as kept up on his grades. So Nathan has returned for his junior year, still unaware of the RSOR’s existence aside from petty rumors. His mother had been the only person he had told about his true identity, and he was not about to let anyone else know who he was, not unless he found Orville. And in such a big world, what were the chances of that?
I AM WHO I AM
[/font]WHO AM I?[/size][/center]
Name/Alias: Kat
Other Characters: Cillian & Jackson
Age: Immortal
Time Zone: Eastern
Post Sample:Everyone in the room turned their heads to look at him, some exchanging nervous glances, others whispering incredulously amongst themselves. The tension in the air was mounting, but Banastre paid no mind to it. In truth he felt that he had wholly lived up an otherwise boring discussion, and perhaps he had opened the floor for a serious debate, rather than mindless talks of pseudo-political drivel. In truth as well he half-expected others to agree with him. By his own opinion France was a generally belligerent nation, and no doubt if must have at one point caused some disturbance to the respective countries of the other members of this discussion group. In the seconds that passed Banastre waited for someone to agree with him, and he glanced around the room at every one of them, expecting a response that never came. This only irritated him further, and coupled with his already foul mood, he dared any of them to speak, any of them to challenge his brilliant logic. Still seconds passed and no one spoke, Banastre’s annoyance was only elevating now, were no one to speak when he had certainly brought up a reasonable topic then he was even more correct in assuming that this debate was futile and pointless. Were no one to speak soon he had half a mind to get up and leave. Yet to his side someone spoke at last.
It was his brother, Cedric. He had hoped for even a fleeting moment that at least his brother would agree with him, until he reminded himself of why Cedric had been sent to the colonies. Banastre scowled at the thought, he had hoped his brother would have gotten over that damned French girl. What Cedric had said seemed neutral at first, so very typical of him, or so Banastre thought, yet it proved to be wholly disagreeing. Banastre rounded on him when his brother mentioned that his favorite wine was French. Of course this was not a false statement, though it would dampen his argument were it to be proven truthful. Banastre was not about to have himself be made into a hypocrite. “We can import wine from other nations,” Banastre hissed, glaring at his brother. His gaze was one warning that, should Cedric speak again, it would agree with Banastre’s point of view. He turned away from his brother at that, when another man addressed him.
This time it had been Lucien Vaillancour, the Crown Prince of France. Banastre never had much liking for the man; he seemed on the whole very weak, and much to soft to ever rule a nation effectively. Banastre sneered at him, had he expected anyone to speak, it had been him. Yet Lucien’s words were quite predictable, while decidedly challenging, and perhaps even mocking in a way. Banastre was sure that he had not missed anything of importance in the hour of his absence, though upon arrival he had caught snippets of some dull speech on the importance of trade. He had no need for Lucien’s reason, Banastre was quite certain of the magnitude of his proposal, and in the moment found it entirely reasonable. Still, Lucien’s insinuation that he was not aware of it did strike a nerve, and Banastre stared him down challengingly. He was not about to be questioned by a Frenchman.
“Customs duties are much too high on our ports on imports from your country,” Banastre spat, “what do you have to offer England that is worth that? Nothing, I say. I think all of Europe should place trade embargos on France.” In truth Banastre knew he was lying. Customs had always been considerably reasonable on French imports, and Banastre himself often partook in many of those same imports. But in the moment he had vowed to swear off of them, in the very least for the sake of his argument.- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
application format by dante/dante in ze pot. lyrics from 'wreak havoc' by angelspit. nothing will chase you down if you remove the credits, but i'd rather you not. that is all.
