Aron Kaul Jun 22, 2013 0:28:03 GMT -5
Post by Aron Kaul on Jun 22, 2013 0:28:03 GMT -5
[attr=class,nameplate]aron h. kaul
[attr=class,apptrait]THE RECKLESS POKEMON
Almost every feature on his face seems to be rather sharp. His is pointed and straight, his jaw isn’t at all bulky, and his cheek bones are prominent and angular. It tends to give his expressions a rather sinister edge, even when he’s mostly innocent. He likes it. He likes to think it keeps people guessing, that it keeps them thinking about him. If not, there’s something far harder to ignore.
Aron is missing his left art. It turns out that cars and motorbikes don’t play too nice, which is, of course, a complete surprise to everyone. His torso is littered with road rash, and small scars, all of which he’s proud of (and rather eager to show off to anyone willing). It’s a good thing he’s right handed, really, considering Plasma needs his signature. He simply couldn’t have a bad first impression, could he?
Least importantly are the aspects of his appearance he considers to be mundane. Black hair, caramel coloured skin, and dark eyes. His hair is short and spiked up just a bit, and entirely unremarkable. At times he considers dying it, but that’s such an obvious attention grabber that he’s decided to pass on it. Instead he focuses on working out, because, for some reason, people are always impressed that someone can exercise after losing a body part.
His clothes are the usual jeans and a t-shirt. Sometimes when he wears a shirt with long sleeves he’ll cut the left one off; it’s always fun to see how uncomfortable the arm stub makes people. He has vague thoughts of getting a very mechanical prosthetic so he look part cyborg, but A) he’s not actually sure if those exist, and B) freaking people out is so much more fun.
Likes: attention, freaking people out, loud noises, fireworks, the twilight series, his prescription pain killers
Hates: baths, mangos, being ignored, being alone, being unable to drink when he’s on his (prescription) pain killers
It’s surely tragic to have lost an arm, right? This entire section should be filled with how angsty Aron is about it, shouldn’t it? Maybe it would be if he didn’t embrace his disability so readily. How could he possibly hate something that got so many people to look at him in the streets? How could he possibly hate something that brought him to the centre of attention? He couldn’t, because attention is what he lives for.
Besides, it had the added benefit of letting him quit playing football. Aron never liked the sport but he was good at it. Life’s a lot easier when you do things you’re good at, because there are girls and parties and even the occasional guy who wants a piece of the action. While sex in and of itself didn’t interest Aron at all the attention did. Not only would he be given full undivided attention as it was happening, but afterwards new rumours would pop up. The entire school would be talking about it, girls he’d never even met would lie and say they’d been together. In short, highschool was a good time for Aron, and sleeping with strangers was a habit he just never shook.
No matter how much he hated football he’ll still tell the story of how it was tragically ripped away from him. And the story of how he was fired shortly after. And about how plasma taking over meant his family lost his childhood Lilipup. And whatever tragic tale seems at least somewhat related to the conversation. In case you’ve not noticed, Aron is most focused on attention. This is why he hates being alone; when he’s alone there’s no one there. He’s not sure why it bothers him so much, but he combats it with a stuffed Teddiursa named Mr. Snuffles. It doesn’t help, not really, but he can pretend it does.
Aron is incredibly impulsive. It’s like there’s no filter between his thoughts and actions. He does a lot of stupid stuff because of it, but who really cares about that?
When he liked you he very dearly likes you, but when he hates you, you may as well be dead to him. Confusingly for many, he can switch back and forth rather rapidly. His friend brought him a birthday present? They’re the best friend he’s ever had! His other friend accidently stepped on his toe? Worst enemy. A lot of friendships have ended because of it, but they were obviously pieces of shit anyway, because anyone who could hate him can’t be a good person.
One of the few hobbies he’s stuck with is programing video games. He’s not the best, and obviously his impairment impairs him, but he’s not bad by any means. His favourite thing to program are short horror games. He’s piss poor at the art of music, but luckily a lot of people are eager to help out; he’s sort of a big deal in certain parts of the internet. His games mostly consist of cat scares, but in the end they usually imply that reality itself is a lie, and that the person playing isn’t even real.
Put all of this together and what do you get? Mostly a volatile guy who needs attention. He’s not really sure if there’s anything more to him than that, and sometimes he’ll set out on ‘quests’ to see if he can find himself (he wasn’t in Kanto, apparently, and so far he hasn’t found anything in Anrui). He’ll often take up a seemingly random hobby, then give it up soon after.
As a child Aron was raised in a very ‘bare bones’ house. The power would be shut off for weeks at a time, their stove was broken, and wool blankets were the only sort they had. It wasn’t much, but it was a home. They only had the one Pokemon, who helped a little but could really only offer company. Not too long after the Lilipup was taken away, which left them in an even harder place. (In retrospect he’s come to realise he probably wasn’t planned.)
School went exactly how you’d expect; he was bullied for not having the right clothes or the right food, or the right anything. Surprisingly, though, he didn’t really care. Before too long he began to like it. Even if they were talking about him in a bad way they were still talking about him, and that’s more than most people got. He started doing things he knew people wouldn’t like and, amazingly, people started to like him more.
He got in trouble a lot. It turns out that teachers don’t like it when you make a joke out of them. Detentions were a bore, but that didn’t stop him from doing bad things. Nah, he’d just spend the time talking loudly and obnoxiously to whoever was there. He never skipped, though. He’d prefer to be sitting in a boring room with a bunch of boring people than to go home and hear his parents yelling at each other over the drama of the day.
At fourteen his parents got divorced. It was a big change, going from a struggling two parent family to a struggling one parent family. He took up a job of his own to try and keep them from going completely under. Turned out calling McDonalds customers lardasses wasn’t a good way to get a promotion. Or keep a job. He ended up being fired, then hired somewhere else, then fired, then hired, and so on. It was great. He got to see a whole heap of new faces, but never had to know anyone long enough that they’d get on his nerves.
In highschool he found out he was really good at football. He didn’t care for it but everyone else did, so he wasn’t going to refuse to play it. He became popular again. This time his bad actions would lead to people ignoring him, so he toned it down a little. He focused more on getting people to like him through football and parties, and what other things they were interested in at the time.
He didn’t see his mum for years. When he did she was significantly better off and brought him a new car for his birthday. It was a beautiful thing, sleek and black, and he loved it. He had to sell it shortly after; his mum may have married into money, but his dad was still broke and their leaky roof was doing damage to the house. He spent the next couple of years doing as much work as he could (for various sources, some dubious and some as clean as a whistle) to save up for a motorbike instead.
When he got it, it was fantastic. There was something incredible about riding it, and he’d do it every chance he could.
One day, either due to bad luck or poor planning, he faced a car head on. When he woke up, days later, he was in terrible pain, had broken bones, and missing an arm. For a while it seemed like his world was crashing down around him. What could he do if he only had one arm? In the process of physical rehabilitation he realised he could do just about everything he’d been doing before, but he could cut out the crap he hated. People on the streets would give him looks of sympathy, and people he’d never even met would whisper when they thought he was out of ear shot. It was better than an arm, easily.
When he was finally out of hospital he hardly knew what to do with himself. He sold his ‘bike’ for scrap metal and went to Kanto. He did the usual stuff; got a Pokemon, wandered around like an asshole, and wrote an utterly unpublishable book about drag queens fighting robotic dinosaurs. The entire thing felt aimless, so he sold his Pokemon and went back to Anrui. He’d decided to join plasma; the group caused so much controversy, after all. And there were obvious goals in place. Besides, it seems fun to be the bad guy.
[attr=class,appcred]character by NUMS
[attr=class,appcred]template by sairri