here goes!
Tall and gangly, Sander does not seem sure of his limbs, yet his movements are hardly awkward. He moves slowly, tentatively, talks softly, and always seems like heβs trying to making himself as small as possible, though it is a little bit hard with his tall frame. In his younger years, an interest in track and field has given him some definition, but he still looks quite unhealthy with his fair complexion. His hair is a dark brown mess with blond strands mixed in, which he grows out. From the way it looks, it is obviously he spends far more money on hair products than he cares to admit. His eyes are blue, dull and frozen not unlike the winter sky. Other than that, his other facial features remain unremarkable, albeit a little bit sharp on the eyes. When socializing, Sander wears a plain smile, though it hardly ever reaches his eyes.
However, there are also days when he has gone without violence for too long and his Stigma gets bad, Sander found himself in an almost homicidal mood. He retains his smiles, mostly because they have become almost second nature for him, but his eyes flickered and his limbs twitched as he reined in the violence. It is best to avoid him when he is in these sort of moods, but it is likely that he would go out of his way to avoid others as well.
Sanderβs choice of apparel can be best described as βcasualβ. He wears comfortable t shirts and jeans on each and every occasion, putting on shorts and tank tops when heβs feeling sporty, or a hoodie when the weather turns cold. Despite the informal tone of his apparel, Sander is not sloppy about his appearance. His clothes are always freshly washed and immaculate, and it is rare for him to wear the same clothes twice in one week.
Through the consumption of blood, be it human or animal, Sander gains enhanced physical capabilities as well as heightened senses. The more he consumes, the more potent these augmentations becomes, though it takes a couple of minutes after feeding for the physical effects to fully activate. Once a limit is reached, he gained invulnerability, however, if this limit is then ignored and overcame, Sander will enter a state of frenzy, losing his ability to reason, his invincibility as well as his sense of self-preservation. The fact that he found the crimson fluid impossible to resist does not help in the slightest. While he does not need blood to survive at all, he just feels the urge to consume it. It makes him feel strong and vibrant, not unlike the effects of some conventional drugs. When heβs on one of his blood high, his irises glow a haunting crimson.
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Sander "Sandy" Lorraine
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17
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6β1ββ
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170lbs
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Tall and gangly, Sander does not seem sure of his limbs, yet his movements are hardly awkward. He moves slowly, tentatively, talks softly, and always seems like heβs trying to making himself as small as possible, though it is a little bit hard with his tall frame. In his younger years, an interest in track and field has given him some definition, but he still looks quite unhealthy with his fair complexion. His hair is a dark brown mess with blond strands mixed in, which he grows out. From the way it looks, it is obviously he spends far more money on hair products than he cares to admit. His eyes are blue, dull and frozen not unlike the winter sky. Other than that, his other facial features remain unremarkable, albeit a little bit sharp on the eyes. When socializing, Sander wears a plain smile, though it hardly ever reaches his eyes.
However, there are also days when he has gone without violence for too long and his Stigma gets bad, Sander found himself in an almost homicidal mood. He retains his smiles, mostly because they have become almost second nature for him, but his eyes flickered and his limbs twitched as he reined in the violence. It is best to avoid him when he is in these sort of moods, but it is likely that he would go out of his way to avoid others as well.
Sanderβs choice of apparel can be best described as βcasualβ. He wears comfortable t shirts and jeans on each and every occasion, putting on shorts and tank tops when heβs feeling sporty, or a hoodie when the weather turns cold. Despite the informal tone of his apparel, Sander is not sloppy about his appearance. His clothes are always freshly washed and immaculate, and it is rare for him to wear the same clothes twice in one week.
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At his core, Sander is an idealist, likely due to the influence of his family. He sneers at the term βsubnaturalsβ, firmly believes that his people deserved the recognition for all the sacrifices they made. This somewhat dangerous belief, combined with events of his past and his Stigma, became the fuel to his unrelenting yet directionless rage. However, with his keen sense of observation, he is no fool. He had seen how far the government was willing to go to dispose of troublesome subnaturals and what his people were capable of when left to run amok with their powers. The need for order is clear.
So to survive, he learnt to play their games, and he played it well. To most, Sander seems even-tempered and approachable for an Aberration. He buries his emotional baggage deep, with the occasional outbursts that mostly result in the destruction of nearby furniture. Many would probably notice his compliance to most of USARILN Eastβs rules. Some people might perceive such obedience as weakness, to Sander, it was a way to rein his rage in. While not as moody and melancholic as many of his fellow Aberrations, Sander does have his own way of keeping people at armβs length. For all his friendly demeanour, he remains a deeply private person and hardly ever voices his true opinions.
So to survive, he learnt to play their games, and he played it well. To most, Sander seems even-tempered and approachable for an Aberration. He buries his emotional baggage deep, with the occasional outbursts that mostly result in the destruction of nearby furniture. Many would probably notice his compliance to most of USARILN Eastβs rules. Some people might perceive such obedience as weakness, to Sander, it was a way to rein his rage in. While not as moody and melancholic as many of his fellow Aberrations, Sander does have his own way of keeping people at armβs length. For all his friendly demeanour, he remains a deeply private person and hardly ever voices his true opinions.
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There was not much to say about Sanderβs early life. He grew up in a regular middle class family in North America, had brother 5 years his senior and was blissfully ignorant of his power for the first 12 years of his life. However, the tentative peace shattered once his brotherβs power and involvement with a powered crime organization became known. Eventually, the government came for him; their modest family home was soon surrounded by armed men. However, Mr and Mrs Lorraine was not inclined to give up their eldest son, and his brother was not keen on surrendering either. The situation soon escalated into violence, then Sander couldnβt recall much more after that. From what people told him, he took three bullets to his side and spent the next month in the nearest hospital. However, once the staff found the large X on his throat, he never got to go home again.
Ever since, Sander moved back and forth between facilities, undergoing various assessments and tests. His record wasnβt exactly pristine, there had been instances when his rage got the better of him, which always resulted in damages to himself and others. As his behaviours slowly re-adjusted into the realm of the acceptable, Sander finally got transferred to USARILN East.
Ever since, Sander moved back and forth between facilities, undergoing various assessments and tests. His record wasnβt exactly pristine, there had been instances when his rage got the better of him, which always resulted in damages to himself and others. As his behaviours slowly re-adjusted into the realm of the acceptable, Sander finally got transferred to USARILN East.
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Exsanguinate
Through the consumption of blood, be it human or animal, Sander gains enhanced physical capabilities as well as heightened senses. The more he consumes, the more potent these augmentations becomes, though it takes a couple of minutes after feeding for the physical effects to fully activate. Once a limit is reached, he gained invulnerability, however, if this limit is then ignored and overcame, Sander will enter a state of frenzy, losing his ability to reason, his invincibility as well as his sense of self-preservation. The fact that he found the crimson fluid impossible to resist does not help in the slightest. While he does not need blood to survive at all, he just feels the urge to consume it. It makes him feel strong and vibrant, not unlike the effects of some conventional drugs. When heβs on one of his blood high, his irises glow a haunting crimson.
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Unlike many of his fellow mages, Sander does not find it easy to distinguish between his βgoodβ dream and the bad one. They both started with a sea of blood and the fume of scorched flesh. His eyes stung as he waded forward, but he was not alone. Allies dogged his steps, both strange and familiar faces at his side as he pushed forward. He felt their blood pulsed as clearly as his own heart beats, and he couldnβt help but smirk.
βWhat will it be?β
βMaestro?β
βWhat will it be?β
βMaestro?β
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In his nightmare, Sander did not, or rather, could not move freely in the pool of blood. Thick chains encircled his wrists, and the liquid kept rising steadily, its heat choking and curling down his throat. He struggled to no avail, staring helplessly at the single spark of light above as the blood slowly engulfed him. Its last words echoed softly, chafing his already frayed nerves:
βOr Monster?β
A snap, then metal rings came apart. He was torn asunder as he rose above the waves, white knuckles clinging to the cobble wall.
βOr Monster?β
A snap, then metal rings came apart. He was torn asunder as he rose above the waves, white knuckles clinging to the cobble wall.
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Aberration
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Sander is plagued by the memories of his family being slaughtered while he stood by and did nothing. He combated these thoughts with the rationalization, but parts of him are well-aware it wasnβt just the will to live that held him back. Furthermore, his situation since had not improved; the regulars stood above his people like dog lords, twisting and cutting the strings to their lives, while he bowed and grovelled like the rest. But what can he do? What will he do?
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xxx
You have none, yet. You will get some as the story progresses. Keep track of them here. Some of them might be really important or something, I don't know.
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