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Name: Henry Izquierdo
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Occupation: High School Student
Power(s): Dust
Hobbies: Gaming (borderline competitively), Comics, Tabletop Gaming, Math, Programming (poorly)
>Gaming Tastes: Overwatch, Sm4sh
>Comic Taste: X-Men, Scott Pilgrim, probably some shitty mangas
>Tabletop Taste: D&D5e, but slowly branching out into other systems (PbtA)
>Musical Taste: Good ole beeps and boops of chiptune and electronica.
Strengths/Weaknesses:
Henry's strength lies in his dedication. When he sets his mind to something, he doesn't see anything else. It allows him to become very skilled, but often to the detriment of anything he isn't focusing on. Friends and family can fall by the wayside in his singular pursuit of goals. But his heart is in the right place--and hey, sometimes you just have to break a few eggs, as the phrase goes.
(I'LL FIND A PIC LATER OOPS)
Slender, with dark skin and curly black hair that usually hangs around his ears. Slightly above average height, brown eyes, and a little bit of ill-kept teenage scruff on his round jaw. Henry wears big, circular glasses, and usually dresses with a flair to his interests rather than fashion--gaming t-shirts underneath unbuttoned, short-sleeve dress shirts, cargo shorts, etc.
The Izquierdos grew up in colorful Lompoc--Marta was a native to the area, while Juan Izquierdo was a bright-eyed immigrant from Mexico. Henry was born not long after his parents married, and the family relocated to Casmalia nearly a decade later just in time to welcome Henry's sister Julia into the family.
While his parents were happy to leave the noise, crime, and tales of ambient radiation pollution behind, Henry didn't take well to the move. He lost touch with a lot of the friends he had grown up with, as a lot of them simply had no interest in associating with a transplant to the northern suburbs. Always interested in gaming, Henry sunk his loneliness into learning the ins and outs of his family P.C.
Casmalia wasn't all bad; the public schools were much nicer, and his parents were making a comfortable living on their new suburbanite salaries. In high school, Henry took like a duck to water in the programming classes that were typically only offered to upper-year students. He became enamored with rigs, and graphics cards, and had all the makings of a future as a pro gamer. Though his parents thought it was sort of a waste of time, they encouraged Henry to follow his interests so long as it involved college. Thinking it was too early to worry about stuff like college applications, Henry spent all his free time doing odd jobs to save up enough money to buy a classmate's lightly-used gaming computer.
However, everything was upended about a week after his sixteenth birthday; upon the family coming home from a late night visiting relatives on the other side of town, they saw the garage pried open and the front door ajar. Running inside, the Izquierdos found the place cleaned out--pictures, placemats, Guadalupe candles, appliances, the whole shebang. Most missed of all was Henry's computer; a square of dust was all that remained in the corner of his room.
Furious, saddened, and at a total loss...Henry lashed out. He felt something roiling in his body, causing his hair to stand on end as a charge of energy overtook him. The particles in his room shifted. Dust swarmed in whorls in the air, batting against the walls. The quiet storm of particulate flowed through the hall, dribbled down the stairs, and in fact filled the entire house. A subtle storm of dust.
In that moment, Henry could feel it all. The gentle flow and air in and out of the vents. The sediment stuck to walls, caught in the carpets. His mother moved some lint on his father's shoulder as she patted him in reassurance. Dust was displaced by furious footsteps in his father's dash to the landline in the kitchen--one of the few things that hadn't been stolen.
The next few months were a storm of frustrations. The police tracked down the ring that had struck several homes in the area, but most of the valuables had already been sent across the border or pawned off. Under the guise of a cleaning service, the crooks had parked in plain sight at the end of neighborhood blocks and lifted all they could in as little time as they had. Henry's computer, the tvs and ipad, a box of jewelry stowed in his parents' room, and countless other things--all gone forever. The injustice of it all.
Dreams dashed, Henry sulked. He found refuge in comic books and tabletop gatherings at the local hobby store. Not as flashy as Overwatch, that was for damn sure; but cheaper, and with better people. Eventually, Henry caught wind of an underground organization in Esperanza that was thwarting crime at its roots. He finally had something to really focus on. That familiar tunnel-vision returned. In secret, he'd develop and test his powers, see the full depth of his ability to manipulate and sense using particulate matter. Sure, on paper, it was kind of crappy as far as superpowers went--but it was his, and he'd make it work.
Character Profile:
Name: Henry Izquierdo
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Occupation: High School Student
Power(s): Dust
Hobbies: Gaming (borderline competitively), Comics, Tabletop Gaming, Math, Programming (poorly)
>Gaming Tastes: Overwatch, Sm4sh
>Comic Taste: X-Men, Scott Pilgrim, probably some shitty mangas
>Tabletop Taste: D&D5e, but slowly branching out into other systems (PbtA)
>Musical Taste: Good ole beeps and boops of chiptune and electronica.
Strengths/Weaknesses:
Henry's strength lies in his dedication. When he sets his mind to something, he doesn't see anything else. It allows him to become very skilled, but often to the detriment of anything he isn't focusing on. Friends and family can fall by the wayside in his singular pursuit of goals. But his heart is in the right place--and hey, sometimes you just have to break a few eggs, as the phrase goes.
Appearance:
(I'LL FIND A PIC LATER OOPS)
Slender, with dark skin and curly black hair that usually hangs around his ears. Slightly above average height, brown eyes, and a little bit of ill-kept teenage scruff on his round jaw. Henry wears big, circular glasses, and usually dresses with a flair to his interests rather than fashion--gaming t-shirts underneath unbuttoned, short-sleeve dress shirts, cargo shorts, etc.
Bio:
The Izquierdos grew up in colorful Lompoc--Marta was a native to the area, while Juan Izquierdo was a bright-eyed immigrant from Mexico. Henry was born not long after his parents married, and the family relocated to Casmalia nearly a decade later just in time to welcome Henry's sister Julia into the family.
While his parents were happy to leave the noise, crime, and tales of ambient radiation pollution behind, Henry didn't take well to the move. He lost touch with a lot of the friends he had grown up with, as a lot of them simply had no interest in associating with a transplant to the northern suburbs. Always interested in gaming, Henry sunk his loneliness into learning the ins and outs of his family P.C.
Casmalia wasn't all bad; the public schools were much nicer, and his parents were making a comfortable living on their new suburbanite salaries. In high school, Henry took like a duck to water in the programming classes that were typically only offered to upper-year students. He became enamored with rigs, and graphics cards, and had all the makings of a future as a pro gamer. Though his parents thought it was sort of a waste of time, they encouraged Henry to follow his interests so long as it involved college. Thinking it was too early to worry about stuff like college applications, Henry spent all his free time doing odd jobs to save up enough money to buy a classmate's lightly-used gaming computer.
However, everything was upended about a week after his sixteenth birthday; upon the family coming home from a late night visiting relatives on the other side of town, they saw the garage pried open and the front door ajar. Running inside, the Izquierdos found the place cleaned out--pictures, placemats, Guadalupe candles, appliances, the whole shebang. Most missed of all was Henry's computer; a square of dust was all that remained in the corner of his room.
Furious, saddened, and at a total loss...Henry lashed out. He felt something roiling in his body, causing his hair to stand on end as a charge of energy overtook him. The particles in his room shifted. Dust swarmed in whorls in the air, batting against the walls. The quiet storm of particulate flowed through the hall, dribbled down the stairs, and in fact filled the entire house. A subtle storm of dust.
In that moment, Henry could feel it all. The gentle flow and air in and out of the vents. The sediment stuck to walls, caught in the carpets. His mother moved some lint on his father's shoulder as she patted him in reassurance. Dust was displaced by furious footsteps in his father's dash to the landline in the kitchen--one of the few things that hadn't been stolen.
The next few months were a storm of frustrations. The police tracked down the ring that had struck several homes in the area, but most of the valuables had already been sent across the border or pawned off. Under the guise of a cleaning service, the crooks had parked in plain sight at the end of neighborhood blocks and lifted all they could in as little time as they had. Henry's computer, the tvs and ipad, a box of jewelry stowed in his parents' room, and countless other things--all gone forever. The injustice of it all.
Dreams dashed, Henry sulked. He found refuge in comic books and tabletop gatherings at the local hobby store. Not as flashy as Overwatch, that was for damn sure; but cheaper, and with better people. Eventually, Henry caught wind of an underground organization in Esperanza that was thwarting crime at its roots. He finally had something to really focus on. That familiar tunnel-vision returned. In secret, he'd develop and test his powers, see the full depth of his ability to manipulate and sense using particulate matter. Sure, on paper, it was kind of crappy as far as superpowers went--but it was his, and he'd make it work.
