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Post by Shannon Newberry on Jul 4, 2014 0:25:09 GMT -5
Newberry; Shannon; Meister
Name: Shannon Newberry
Nickname: None
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Race: Meister
Position: Student
Class: One Star
Partner: None
A Strong Body
Picture:
Appearance:
Shannon is a fairly tall bloke, standing at six feet tall. He's also rather quite muscular, with broad shoulders giving an overall figure that could be considered quite intimidating. He's lively, prone to expressions, postures, and gestures that exude vibrant and exaggerated emotions. He keeps a bounce to his step without even thinking about it, and he absentmindedly flexes his muscles or pops his knuckles simply to keep the energy flowing.
His peachy-keen peachy-pink hair is long, easily reaching his shoulder blades, and generally he puts no effort into styling it. He simply lets it jut out in whichever direction it pleases, and it is naturally not very curly. There are generally some locks of it that fall over his shoulders. He has light blue eyes and light skin. He typically wears a long black jacket, open completely. He generally wears v-neck t-shirts with a generally modest cut to them. He prefers jeans over other legwear, and steel-toed boots for his feet. If one were to view his torso bare of clothes, they could see a vertical scar on the left side of his abdomen that's about 3 inches in length.
In the rare instance he is convinced to sharpen up his image, he does have a nice black suit and red tie fitted for him. By the hands of a stylist, his rough hair has a lot to it to work with to be molded into any number of fashionable forms. He particularly likes braids, though he is far too concerned with the more important punching of things to bother to style his hair himself with any regularity.
Height: 6'0”
Weight: 177
Fighting Style: Shannon knows his way around a fight. That doesn't mean he has any particularly refined skills or disciplined techniques, but he makes up for that with sheer force of body and will. His style could most accurately be compared to a boxer, preferring hooks and jabs to the torso and face, whilst primarily guarding his own with his raised arms. He's quick on his feet, and swift with his blows. He'll throw punch after punch, or otherwise attack with a weapon, trying his best to wear the enemy down and keep himself on the offensive. He'll occasionally do some grappling, and his strength is enough that he can do some pretty decent throws despite his poor technical skills.
Personality:
Shannon's blood boils with unbridled passion. He has no filter, has no discipline. Any thought that passes through his mind will be said, often bombastically. Even if it is to comment on some simple, obvious thing. Often, however, the thoughts that pass his mind, combined with how he vocalizes and acts upon such thoughts, are baffling to anyone with some sense of etiquette. He'll bluntly insult, provoke, mock, and generally make an arse out of himself to complete strangers and acquaintances alike. Especially if you say something to him that he could take as a personal insult. Of course this uninhibited funnel of thought to mouth isn't all bile, as he'll just as readily laugh, smile broadly, haphazardly compliment people he's fond of, and jump to people's aid.
Shannon has a very grandiose view of the world. He convinces himself quite easily that any moment could be grand. He picks fights simply for the thrill, for the opportunity to grow stronger. There is no such thing as a scuffle to him. Every battle is a climactic throw down etched in the cosmos as inscrutable destiny. Yes, every challenge to be conquered is to be conquered in the pursuit of a grand narrative. Note, though, that he doesn't seek acclaim, he simply seeks personal gratification in accomplishing feats he deems challenging, and in besting those he respect.
Relaxation is not a concept Shannon is personally familiar with. Neither is peaceful solitude. He's either seeking his next challenge, or is pumping himself up to do so. Despite the social graces he lacks, he can not stand isolation. He truly wants friends and companions, and is always up to meeting new people. He particularly longs for the day he meets his destined rival... whoever that may be. Because simply surpassing others is formulaic. He needs someone to constantly compare himself to, to race neck to neck in his self-perceived contest of strength.
Inside the Soul
Abilities:
Soul Purge: Shannon likes to punch things. Thus, rather than developing soul perception, his talent as a meister has thus far only manifested in making him punch better. It wouldn't be all that notable of a soul purge for a one star student, were in not for the extra oomph it packs due to his special soul wavelength.
Drakon Soul: Shannon is not subtle or delicate, not in the slightest. In fact, he's rather quite abrasive and hot-blooded in everything he does. This is reflected by his soul, which if one were to see it's form, would be seen as being scaled on the sides, and a peachy pink color. This nature of his has it's perks; it makes his soul purge much more potent. Unfortunately, it does place undue friction in any partnership he could have, limiting further who among the weapons of Shibusen he could effectively wield, as well as being a roadblock for any resonances to develop.
Resonances:N/A
Out of your Mind
Strengths: Physically Strong, Agile, High Stamina
Weaknesses: Lack of Intelligence, Psychologically Weak, Strategically Inept
Hobbies: When he's left to his own devices, Shannon typically works out so as to further his progress towards his ultimate end goal. He has no routine for such, though, and will simply do whatever crosses his mind; the poor planning for his work outs hinders him, as it is not as efficient as it could be, and could probably do with having someone else around to give his exercise structure.
Shannon also like puppets. He likes how felty they are. And so he crafts his own, often modeling them off of himself, people he knows, or imaginary characters that typically only serve as shallow villains. He entertains himself with these puppets, playing out scenarios and fantasies, most commonly ones where he gets in a fight and comes out victorious. He is not at all ashamed by his puppetry, and will occasionally use these effigies of people to mock them.
Likes: fights, concerts, motorcycles, puppets, sloppy makeouts
Dislikes: schoolwork, dairy products, diplomacy, solitude, discipline
Aspirations: To be the world's strongest meister! It's as simple as that.
History:
Shannon was born in the East End of London, England. He never met his father; and in fact, his mother only met him once, 9 months before Shannon was born. She wasn't expecting to become a mother, but she did an admirable job raising her rambunctious son. They had a rather loving relationship, but unfortunately economic demands kept the mother busy, and Shannon was never a particularly well behaved kid.
Attending public school, Shannon was a notorious delinquent; he showed the teachers little respect, and he had a tendency to ignore work and distract other students. And that was assuming he attended class at all: the older he got the less and less he cared about being a student, being held back a few years as a high school freshman. Outside of class he often would get in fights with fellow delinquents.
Now, Shannon was never a particularly bad guy; he never stole, never dealt in contraband, and the adults who knew him generally considered him a sweet, if rough, boy. There were some minor gangs of wannabe thugs that had their eye on him as a valuable potential recruit, but any attempts by them to confront him generally resulted in Shannon getting angry and brawling with them. Even outnumbered three to one, he was generally capable of holding his own in a straight up fist fight.
Unfortunately, a fair fight wasn't always to be expected on the streets. One day when he was 16, Shannon was jumped by some fellows he had previously beaten up. He managed to knock out all but one of the ruffians, before that one suddenly pulled a switch knife out and stabbed Shannon in the gut. The pain was searing, and it filled him with a swelling rage. He jabbed the bloke straight in his smug face, but something was different about this particular punch. The blow sent the guy flying backward, knocking him out instantly, and Shannon felt as if though the ire that had built up was released in that immensely satisfying hit. Unbeknownst to him, he had pulled off a soul purge. Not thinking much more on it, he pulled out the knife from his abdomen and struggled home.
His mother rushed him to the hospital, and in addition to treating his wounds, the doctor was able to identify the technique he had pulled off based on Shannon's description of it. Shannon had heard of Shibusen, and meisters and kishins and witches, and all that stuff before, of course. But he'd never imagine that was a life that could apply to him: after all, his mother's family had no history of being meisters, or weapons, or anything. With this revelation however, Shannon saw a new path open to him, and he fully intended to seize it. His mom was supportive of this, happy to see a fire in his eyes and a brighter future ahead of him. Before enrolling in Shibusen at the age of 17, Shannon had tirelessly honed his soul purge, quickly becoming able to utilize it reliably.
Extra Notes: He speaks with a Cockney accent, and is fond of incorporating rhyming slang in his speech.
Behind the strings
Alias: Aged Rain, aka Rain, aka Rainy
Other characters: Cecil Amier and Gardenia Oslin
RP Sample:
"Oi! Don't leave me all on me Jack Jones here!" Shannon shouted after yet another hapless Shibusen student making themselves sparse from his company. He stomped him right leg in frustration, bent over and picked up a small stone, and threw it in the fleeing student's general direction, "augh, who needs ya anyway, ya wanker. And your barnet's silly, cut like a bowl like that!" He rustled his hand through his own hair; he really had no business insulting that guy's bowl-cut when his own hair was so messy. Not that Shannon cared, he was just really frustrated.
He'd been in Shibusen for weeks, yet still he could find no weapon to partner with. They always ended up running away before even trying. Shannon spat on the ground and threw his arms behind his head, indignantly walking away himself. Death City's park was wide and open, and there were plenty of people around. Quite a number of them just residents, but there were some Shibusen students hanging around. Some eyes were drawn to the scene he had just caused, but most shrugged it off and continued trying to enjoy their time.
Shannon walked by a tree, and struck his left fist against it's trunk in another bout of frustration, noticeably shaking its leaves and sending whichever birds resting in its branches flying out. An acorn was shaken loose, and fell down. Straight on his head. His brow twitched, and his blood vehemently pumped through his veins. He glared intensely at the arbor assailant, and swiftly spun around, leg raised, striking the bark with the tip of his steel toed boot. Shannon planted his foot back on the ground and crossed his arms across his chest, "that'll learn ya." He turned back around to continue walking along his way, stuffing his hands in his pockets, grumpily slouched over.
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Post by The Sidhe on Jul 4, 2014 22:32:25 GMT -5
Accepted! Feel free to begin roleplaying with this character whenever you wish~
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