Post by Michael Phillips on May 18, 2013 17:12:35 GMT -8
* MICHAEL VINCENT PHILLIPS !
[/color][/font]
You think I'm hanging out with Dracula? And the Easter Bunny? Fuck off! [/center]
full name: Michael Vincent Phillips
nicknames: Mike, Mikey, Vin
date of birth: 22nd December, 1983
date of change: ONLY FILL OUT IF VAMPIRE!
hometown: Mystic Falls, Virginia
species: Psychic
abilities: Psychokinesis, Remote viewing, Apportation, Telepathy, Transvection, Retrocognition
height: 6'1
weight: 85kg or 187.5lbs
hair: Brown
eyes: Brown
play by: David Tennant
likes: Animals
Knowledge
Maths
Explanations
Beethoven (not Mozart, that's important)
Family
Chocolate
Fish
dislikes: Pet Shops
Being alone for too long
Bad manners
Not actively doing something at any given moment
Feeling left out of groups
People who threaten his family
Being told no
strengths: He has a strong sense of right and wrong, and he is very firm in these beliefs, using them to guide his decisions. He is a good problem solver. He likes to think and puzzle things out, finding solutions. Coupled with his great listening skills, people confide far too much in him, and he enjoys the challenge of finding a solution. He is quite clever and sees right through people when they try to pull the wool over his eyes.
weaknesses: He does not spook easily, so he often dives into situations without thinking the consequences through. He also has a terrible memory for people and faces. However, he has an excellent academic memory. He doesn’t know when to let a problem go. When he hits a dead end, he gets broody, feeling the sting of failure. He may walk away from the problem for a while, but he will come back to it, even if it’s just to throw himself against that dead end again and again.
fears: Too many people in one place
Shops
secrets: He is good at drawing fine details. Having been taught to draw extensive maps, he has a keen eye for detail and can add it to just about any picture.
personality: Where to start with Michael's personality? The problem is, he seems to have so many. His power of self transformation is something that he delights in; his ability to change his image when the situation calls for it has come in useful on many occasions and, as such, not a lot of people are really sure what to make of him. He can make people trust him, make them think they know his heart when in fact they only know his face.
Only in his dreams does Michael stop acting, and when this happens his identity seems to fall apart. He is well-liked for his charisma and thought of as a harmless, if not slightly eccentric man. He can play the brother, uncle, father, or lover at the drop of a hat. Incredibly happy, often clueless, too innocent for his own good, and mostly stubborn is just one aspect. He excelled throughout school, skipping grades and graduating college when he was seventeen. He is extremely smart and is able to gather and remember information like a human computer. Michael lacks ambition; when faced with a problem, he tends to find the simplest solution rather than going out of his way to figure it out. While all of his answers prove to be right, he never verifies.
Shame or embarrassment is something he does not feel. He is not afraid to strip down in the middle of a crowd of people for no apparent reason. If the opportunity presented itself, he would have sex out in the open, on stage, and not feel a hint of embarrassment. He knows he is a good looking man, and he uses that to his advantage. He likes to run things, likes to lead, and he can not take orders well. He doesn't complain when orders are given to him, he just doesn't do them unless he is begged, or paid.
When he is not pleased, his anger builds until he snaps. His temper is short lived, but very fierce. He feels moody and is growly after the initial confrontation has passed, often feeling bad for his behaviour later on. He will not admit that he was wrong, though. It goes against his grain to do so. Being generally an exceptionally active man, it is rare for him to ever be doing absolutely nothing. In relation, he holds little regard for lazy people - though this could simply be due to the man's lack of understanding of why they wouldn't want to be moving around. People had bodies for a reason, after all, it didn't make sense for a person to sit around all day.
He is an incredibly selfish person. He is empathetic and can be caring, yes, but ultimately, he lives for himself. He will always find himself bringing a topic of conversation back to himself, though he doesn't meant to. He is not unkind; despite his inherent need to be paid attention to, he does love, and wants to help others. He just doesn't know how, and anyways, surely they can take care of themselves?
mother: Clara Phillips
father: Ronald Phillips
siblings: Nikki Phillips, Lilly Phillips
other family:
other important people: His live-in girlfriend
history: More a constant, than an event, is the influential nature of Michael's parents' relationship. At a young age he noticed that their love was an unconditional one, and no matter how hard he tried not to notice, the passion of their gaze was something he was never quite able to understand beyond the fact that it was dangerous. Indeed, there were times that his mother and father seemed to be a united whole, no visible seam where one became the other.
The first seven years of his life were largely uneventful. His father was from old money, and his mother spent heaps of it on Michael - her baby boy. He wanted for nothing. The boy was happy and healthy, well schooled, and well mannered. He was quick to laugh and play. As a boy, he often played with his sisters, for lack of anyone better to keep company with. He had no huge expectations on his own shoulders, and thus had nothing better to do than play games with his sisters and be doted on by whoever came near him. He was spoiled, rambunctious, but undeniably kind-hearted.
When Michael hit his teens, he began to feel dissatisfied with the easy life. He wanted what he had, but he also wanted more. He read books and tried every new experience he could manage. He dated girls, as attracted to them as they seemed to be to him, and made a very short and frustrating attempt at learning the guitar to further his wooing abilities. He found the need to be accepted by “the guys” at school, which pushed him to take his adventures to the next level. He shop lifted, went bungee jumping, paintballing, joy riding, tagging... In short, he had fun – until the fun suddenly ended.
Michael was fifteen when he and the guys took a drive after one of the older boys had stolen liquor from his parents. Everyone in the car was buzzed, and none of them should have been driving. Partway through the drive, the boys in the backseat distracted the driver, causing him to swerve off the road, the passenger side – Michael's side – slamming into a tree. The accident fractured his shoulder blade, popped his shoulder joint out of place, and broke his collarbone, among other less serious injuries. He had surgeries to fix the damage and had to rest his arm for over a month until it finally healed enough to start rehabilitating the limb. This would leave the shoulder scarred, but he would gain back full mobility.
With nothing to do while he recuperated, he read everything in the house, stumbling across a book of puzzles. He discovered a passion for them. Word puzzles, number puzzles, codes…if it had a secret, he worked to solve it. The whole experience tamed his need to be an idiot to be accepted by the guys, and he refocused his attention. At college, Michael was guilty of overclocking and would often take almost 30 hours a semester, double the recommended load. Because of this overly diligent approach, he breezed through several bachelor degrees before moving on to getting Master degrees in military history, chemistry, and philosophy. He bounced around between careers after getting his degrees, and tried out several options including novelist, bank manager, and restaurant owner.
your name: Guess...
age: 5,713.5
experience: Many moons
who you play: Duh...
how to contact you: Telepathy
how you found us: I closed my eyes and pointed
role play sample:
The building looked as though it had seen it's share of ghosts. Gothic, sooty, dark. The building dated from the Victorian era and had been a boarding school at one time and later an asylum. It could have been home to dozens of spirits, but none as immediate as the one that might have been hovering now above the still warm body of a young woman.
Her eyes were still and wide, showing shock, horror, panic, perhaps all three at once. She lay stomach down, her face darkening slowly to a plum shade from the constriction of the rope connecting her neck to her ankles.
The Lazy Hangman, an escapists illusion abandoned in the 1800's because of it's futility. At one time it had been performed by great magicians and now....now it was a ghost of a memory. A whispered nightmare in a shadowed corridor. The performer, or in this particular,incidence, victim, would lie in a prone position with their hands and ankles bound tightly.
Another length of rope would then be wound around the neck before it too was attached to the ankle bindings.The tendency of the legs to straighten gave the project it's ingenuity, the noose would be pulled tightly and thus began the slow process of strangulation. The condemned had but four minutes in which to figure out the device before they wound up pondering it for all of eternity while joining the choir invisible.
Jesse had never been a fan of magic tricks as a child. But now, with the tedious jobs he'd been given as of late, he needed to seek more entertaining avenues of body disposal before he went stir crazy from the boredom. Scattered around the woman was what used to be a small stack of paperwork, some basic supplies, the meager contents of her purse, and a spilled cup of coffee. The contents of the cup were beginning to stain her jeans and light colored top.
Also present was the man who had killed her. He was leaning down as though examining her, feeling no need to rush. It was early on a Saturday, chances were good that she wouldn't be missed for several more hours. He leaned in closer, squinting, wondering if he could possibly see some essence of sorts, some spirit preparing to head for the light... He didn't. He straightened up and pondered on what else he might do to the unmoving form in front of him.
As much as he was fixated on the task at hand, he kept his senses on alert. Whether it was a Croat, straggler, survivor, demon, or such he was more than ready. Prepare for the unpreparable. That was one lesson that had been beaten into him that he'd managed to retain. The core job had been simple enough; secure the building and leave no survivors or witnesses. That was an extreme waste of his talent but who was he going to complain to?
If he was cast out where was he going to go? Dean Winchester and his band of Merry Men would sooner rip him apart than allow him to breathe within a thousand yards of them. Besides, he craved the power and part of him liked being feared. That and he wouldn't be caught dead buddying up with those fluffy winged bible thumpers no matter how desperate he was. If he had his way he'd wipe every last one of 'em off the face of the Earth.
He glanced from the dead girl to the door and back again. She had a very slight, fine bone structure. Small nose, full lips, large grey eyes, soft dark hair that framed her face perfectly. If it wasn't for the look of terror frozen there in mid scream, she would have been quite lovely. It was almost a shame she had to die, but wrong place, wrong time, he supposed.
He heard a floorboard creak and turned around catlike and used his peripherals. He knew whoever made that noise wasn't stupid so he moved as silently as he could in the direction it came from. His clothing was dark and hopefully, in the dim hallway, he wouldn't stand out as much as he would normally.
