NameAdrian Amore
Age19
AppearancePersonalityOpen, friendly, and as thick as a sack of hammers, Adrian is the kind of guy that'll fight for you even if he doesn't know what he's supposed to be fighting, or why. Rambunctuous, excitable, and loyal to a fault, he has a bad habit of acting on impulse and often gets himself into trouble. He's not the brightest, which makes him easy to manipulate, but he makes up for it in wit, passion, honesty and a strong sense of justice. The idea of betraying someone is an alien concept to him, and while he gives his trust quite easily, it's very difficult to reclaim once lost.
HistoryAdrian was a less-than-stellar student from a less-than-well-off family even at the best of times, but he got by. He had friends, family, decent food, a part-time job, a place to stay, and even somehow managed to barely pass most of his exams. Sure, he wasn't the greatest duelist, and his academic ability left a lot to be desired, but his life was good enough as far as he was concerned, and so he maintained an indominably upbeat attitude.
That all changed when he opened a seemingly normal booster pack - something he saved up for every month with what little money he had left over, in the hopes of improving his terribly subpar deck - to find that it contained only a single card. Dokuroizo. The Grim Reaper. A feeling of dread washed over him at that moment, and he could feel the chilling aura of a bad omen radiating from this anomalous card. But... that sort of thing wasn't real, right? Just a weird mistake. Nothing to worry about.
He went home. Added the weird card to his collection, and went to bed, thinking nothing more of it. And yet, the next day, going through his deck before a duel... there it was, mixed in among the other cards. Unusual. Discarding it onto the table, it got left there, and eventually forgotten in the heat of the game. Later on, someone tried to return it to him, but he told them to keep it. But he guessed they didn't want it either, as it turned up in his locker later on. An odd string of coincidences, but nothing too alarming, even if the card itself was creepy. Tossing it carelessly into a dumpster behind the school before heading home, he tried to push the whole strange day out of his mind.
And yet, when he got home, and emptied his bag... there it was. Mixed in among his schoolbooks and other cards. Had he somehow forgotten to get rid of it? Or had it managed to end up in his bag again through sheer chance? That didn't make sense, but he was prone to making these kinds of mistakes, so he grimaced, reprimanding himself for his absent-mindedness. The card was promptly thrown away again, this time out a window. Homework was done, dinner was cooked and eaten, and just as he was preparing to retire for the day- there it was. In his room. Lying on his desk. He was starting to feel unnervingly paranoid about the situation...
One more time, away it went. Into the trash. And making sure it stayed in there this time. That should have been enough to forget about the whole thing, and get a good night's sleep. Instead, Adrian was tormented by a strange nightmare - this ghostly specter of death, looming over him. Taunting him.
Haunting him. He awoke with a start, wide-eyed and covered in a panicked sweat, and could sleep no longer. Not until he checked. His deck. His cards. Among them, an intruder. Dokuroizo. How?
Why? Why was this card following him relentlessly? This thought burrowed its way firmly into his mind. Days, and then weeks passed. Attempts would be made to dump the card. To hand it off. Destroy it. Trade it, sell it, even just leave it at home for a day. Every time, somehow or another, the damn thing would find a way to follow him. In his bag, his books, his locker, his bed, his clothes - more than once it had even been returned to him by friends, shopkeepers, teachers, his own family...
Fine. If the card was following him so badly, it clearly wanted to be played. And so, to put the damn thing out of its misery, that was what he did. He challenged a friend to a duel. Outside of school. By the old bridge, away from prying eyes. And he played his card. Dokuroizo. The Reaper. Almost immediately, he felt as though he had made a mistake. Like the world had gotten colder, and time had stopped. His friend seemed not to notice, but was acting nervously. Surely he knew something. He had to, right? He wasn't going crazy. It was the card. It was going to do something.
Adrian didn't win that duel. He didn't have to.
His friend, caught off-guard to begin with by the strange shift in attitude from someone he cared about, freaked out when Adrian lunged towards him, demanding information he didn't have. He took a wide step backwards, lost his balance. And plummeted into the river. Adrian came to his senses, and searched desperately for something to use to help his friend. After a few frenzied seconds that may as well have been an eternity, he knew he had to take matters into his own hands. He lept into the river and attempted to pursue his friend. Swam with all his power, clawing at the water like a deranged animal, to try and catch up with the limp body floating downstream in the current. After what felt like years, he managed to grab on to his clothing. Tangled up in the current, he pushed to try and make it to the river bank with the drowned weight in his arms. Body on the verge of collapse, he dragged them both up the rocks. But it had been too late. His friend did not get up. Not out of the water. Not after CPR. Not when the paramedics arrived.
His world was shattered. His friend was dead.
His friend was dead. By his own hand? No. That card had killed someone. Not him. He started to spiral out, wracked with both guilt and grief. He started losing sleep. Avoiding people. Eating less and flunking classes. His attendance suffered. Became overcome with paranoia and lost his job. He even started hallucinating the damn thing was talking to him. But that was impossible. He might have been going crazy, but even he knew that much. One, two, three years went by. The scars never went away. Not the mental pain, the wounds on his arms, or that godforsaken reminder of what had happened. No matter what he tried. Boxing. Alcohol. Skipping town. There was no escaping that day.
But... maybe he could at least put things to rest. Make sure it didn't happen to anyone else. If he could get into a good duel school... well, if anyone would know about weird cards, it would be them. So maybe. Just maybe. They could help him get rid of this one. His grades were in shambles, he had to build a new deck out of leftover cards, and everyone avoided him when he returned, but... he finished school. Pulling all-nighters for months on end, and even cheating on some tests, but he did it. Passed just enough of his classes so that he went on to graduate, and then applied to every single option he had.
There was only one response.
But that would be enough.