Post by Stephen Paulinski on Jan 6, 2014 23:28:06 GMT -5
Basics
Name: Stephen Michael Paulinski
Nicknames: Steve, Stevey, etc.
Age: 16
Birthday: November 8th, 1997
Grade: 11th
Powers:
Pyrokenisis: Stephen has the ability to generate fire around his arms. The flames around Stephen's arms change color depending on his mood; red when he is calm, orange when he is agitated, yellow when he is angry, and white when he is enraged. The angrier Stephen gets, the larger the initial flames around his arms are. When he is calm, the flames form in the palm of of his hand. When he is agitated, the flames engulf his hands. When he is angry, the flames spread to his lower arms. When he is enraged, his entire arms are encircled with brilliant white fire. Stephen can launch the flames he creates with a blast effect.
Pyrokinetic flight: Stephen discovered that if he shot directly under himself, he could launch himself into the air to leap a short distance. With practice, Stephen might be able to figure out how to use the flames he creates to fly.
Regenerative healing factor: Stephen never appears to be hurt. A genetic mutation causes his skin cells to divide rapidly whenever he is injured. Therefore, any superficial injuries, such as burns and cuts are healed almost instantly. Internal wounds, such as being shot or stabbed, are not affected by this ability. Stephen is able to manipulate fire because of this mutation. Whenever he generates flames, it burns him, and hurts a lot.
Member group: Neutral- Stephen entered the school unaware of the two factions. If either one gives him a convincing argument (or is able to manipulate him), Stephen will join that side
Canon: no
Appearance:
Stephen never really cared about his looks. He never cared what clothes he was wearing or how his hair looked; as long as he wasn't wearing anything too ridiculous or he didn't look like he hadn't showered in weeks, he was fine with how he looked.
Stephen was an average height for a boy his age. He was five feet five inches, and had an average build.
Before the accident, Stephen had jet black hair, along with blue eyes. He always looked unkempt, but not filthy. He only shaved once every few weeks, so he always had some sort of mild facial hair. He only bathed occasionally; once or twice every week or so. He never liked water.
After the accident, Stephen was covered in third degree burns, and his hair was completely burned off. Seconds after, however, the burns disappeared, as did the pain. A month passed before his hair grew back, however. When his hair did grow back, it came back as stark white.
Personality
Likes:
Dislikes:
Fears:
Strengths:
Weaknesses:
Goals:
Overall Personality:
Nothing really grabbed Stephen Paulinski's interest that was supposed to for kids his age. Keeping up with his appearance? He had other more important things to worry about. Shaving and bathing regularly? See previous. School? Just because someone is good at something doesn't necessarily mean he or she likes it. Girls? Stephen did hate school, but he wasn't stupid. He knew that it had to take up all of his attention, which would put a hamper on dating. Yes, Stephen was generally disinterested with "teenager things". Things that Stephen did like? Stephen loved his friends and family. Stephen liked video games. Stephen liked to read books, both classic and modern. Out of everything Stephen liked, he had one real passion: comic books.
Stephen was a "dorky" kid. He read comics adamantly, and was able to pull random facts and history about these realms of fiction. The heroes with their brightly colored costumes and fantastic powers fascinated him. Stephen would lay awake for hours during the night and space out during the day placing himself in the role of an amazing hero with amazing powers doing amazing things, helping people, getting the girl, creating world peace, ruling the world...
Stephen had to stop himself whenever he went down this train of thought. In the end, he would imagine someone close to him getting hurt by an evil mastermind, and then he would imagine getting his revenge on the villain. He would imagine every blow, every cry of pain, and he would feel his adrenaline rush. His rage against injustice would get away from him, and he would begin to enjoy imagining severely punishing ne’er-do-wells. He smiled internally at the thought of silencing injustice permanently.
Stephen would never act on these desires in real life. In actuality, Stephen wanted to get along with everyone. He agreed with and was friendly towards everyone. Because of this, Stephen was well liked by his peers. He was seen as the funny, lovable dork who was impossible to hate because he was so nice to everybody.
Because of his desire to be nice and agreeable with everyone, Stephen’s opinions were easily swayed. In order to agree with someone to avoid conflict, Stephen would believe in almost any idea someone put forward, even if it contradicted Stephen’s original idea on the matter. Stephen would find himself strung along by others at some times, and could be extremely gullible.
History:
Father: Michael Paulinski - 45-years-old
Mother: Stephanie Paulinski - 46-years-old
History:
Stephen Paulinski was a miracle baby. Stephanie Paulinski was deemed infertile by doctors. This crushed both Michael and Stephanie, but that didn’t prevent them from trying. For ten years the Paulinskis tried to have a baby, and for ten years they were disappointed by reality. Then, on February 17, 1997, the Paulinskis’ lives changed forever. Roughly eight months later, Stephen Michael Paulinski was born.
Stephen was a miracle baby. He should not have been conceived, much less born. If there were such things as signs, they were showing that Stephen was destined for great things. Maybe he was, some day. For most of his life, however, Stephen was a normal kid. Stephen was normal, but there was one trait that set him apart from others.
Stephen was never hurt, on the superficial level at least. Whenever he would get cut, burned, or stabbed, the wound would disappear almost instantly. Yes, the wound would initially hurt. After a few seconds, the skin would heal and the pain would subside. Stephen thought he was invincible. That was his first mistake.
Stephen wanted to show off his incredible ability to his friends. When Stephen was seven, he got a hold of some scissors and stabbed his hand. His friends panicked when they saw the blades puncturing his palm and heard his yelp of pain. They were confused when the wound magically disappeared seconds later, and Stephen started to smile, claiming that it didn’t hurt. They were thrown back to panicking when Stephen suddenly clutched his hand and started to cry. Stephen’s father was called, and he arrived to take Stephen to the emergency room. It was at the hospital where Stephen learned that he was, in fact, not invincible. He had a mutation where his skin cells would divide more rapidly than humanly possible, causing flesh wounds to heal almost instantaneously. This healing factor, however, did not apply to any part of Stephen’s body beyond the skin.
Years passed, and Stephen continued to lead a pretty normal life. It wasn’t until the accident when Stephen’s full power manifested.
There was a fire; a big one. Stephen was walking through his neighborhood by himself when he saw the blaze. He was about to walk past, when he heard the cry of a small child. Stephen hesitated. The fire fighters are on their way, he thought, what could he possibly do to help? He repeated that to himself as he continued to walk down the street. He couldn’t leave the child behind, he just couldn’t. Even if the fire fighters were on their way, they probably wouldn’t get there in time to save the kid. So, swallowing his fear, Stephen rushed inside the building to find the source of the scream.
Stephen couldn’t remember much right before the accident. He just remembered feeling like the devil himself was grabbing his face. Everything hurt. The fire burned almost all of his flesh on his head to a char. His hair, his eyebrows, his eyelashes, completely burned away. As he began to black out from the pain, he heard the child’s screams for help echoing from a far away cold distance. He just wanted to lay down and die, so he did.
But he did not die…
He got up. He could not damn this child, even if Stephen wanted to die. He pushed forward as his body screamed at him to stop; but, he did not stop, he pressed forward. He reached the child. His pain subsided; his flesh restored to a healthy pink. The little girl looked up at him with astonished eyes. “It’s going to be alright,” Stephen told the little girl. It was then the wall behind her collapsed toward her.
“No!” Stephen screamed, outstretching his arm towards the girl. I need to save her, was all he thought when the miracle happened. An orange flame erupted in his hand and shot forward towards the wall, knocking the debris away from the girl. Stephen was dumbfounded, as was the girl. Stephen looked at his hand in amazement. It was completely black; he could see his bones. It hurt like hell. He snapped back to reality. He needed to get the girl to safety, then he would marvel at his new found abilities. But first, he had to deal with the burning sleeve of his coat. With a yelp, he threw off his jacket and dropped it into the fire, now only wearing the sleeveless shirt under his coat. So, he thought to himself, sleeves are out of the question.
The girl was small, that’s what made the first part of the plan easy. It wasn’t until Stephen broke through the collapsing wall and started plummeting towards the pavement four stories below with the the girl enveloped inside his arms that it occurred to him that it was highly unlikely a second miracle would occur and he would suddenly develop the ability to fly. Stephen closed his eyes, cursed his stupidity, and did the first thing that came to mind: blast the ground under him with his now yellow flames. His freefall suddenly became a light decent as the propulsion of his flames planted Stephen gracefully on the pavement.
The girl stared with big, wide, blue eyes at the hairless, charred man whose skin was healing right before her very eyes. “Are you a superhero?” she asked, bewildered. Superhero…
“I-I guess so,” Stephen said after a moment of stunned silence, “I guess so.”
“Thank you, mister!” the little girl squaled, hugging Stephen's legs. Suddenly, the little girl seemed troubled. Stephen noticed. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “What about everyone else in the building?” Stephen knew what he had to do; he had been dreaming of this ever since he picked up his first comic book. Taking out the bandana he had in his pocket, he tied it around his mouth to protect himself from smoke inhalation. Then, he jumped back into the fray.
The rest of the rescues went almost painlessly. Stephen was able to run in quickly and save everyone in the building. Stephen didn’t care that his new powers hurt like hell, he was helping people, and that’s all he ever wanted to do. Stephen became confident and cocky, beginning to believe he could do no wrong while saving these people. This was his second mistake.
He didn’t mean to burn that man. He really didn’t. The man was the last person in the building. It was a similar situation as it was with the girl, with debris falling toward the man. Stephen, in his power-drunk state, failed to realize that the man was much bigger than the little girl and promptly clipped the right side of the man’s face with a red fire blast. The man fell to the ground, screaming and clawing at his face. Stephen felt cold, despite the scorching temperature within the room. Stephen smelled the man’s burning flesh. He need to throw up, he need some air. But first, he needed to get the man medical attention. Stephen ran out of the building and screamed, “This man needs an ambulance!” Before anyone could ask Stephen his name or what had happened, he launched himself into the air with some white blasts of fire, and landed on the roof of the building across the street. Stephen headed home.
When Stephen arrived at home, no one was in the house. He ran to the bathroom, feeling sick to his stomach. He threw up in the toilet, silently cursing himself for being too arrogant. He seriously hurt a man, possibly even killed him. He needed to learn how to control his powers so he would never hurt an innocent person ever again.
Steven arrived home, where his father was waiting for him with crossed arms. “Where have you been?” Steven’s father asked, “It’s 6 o’clock. You were supposed to be home by 4.” Stephen sighed. “Look Dad,” he said, “Something… happened...” Steven’s father raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What happened, then?”
Steven willed a small red flame into the palm of his hand. Steven’s father looked surprised, but not as much as Steven had expected.
Steven explained everything that had happened to his father. Steven told his father that he wanted to help people, but he felt that he was too unstable with his powers to actually do so. Steven’s father sat in silence for a while, seemingly deep in thought.
“You know,” Steven’s father said, “there is a place where you can learn to control your powers. It’s a boarding school called the Ashford Academy School for the Gifted.” Steven was intrigued by his father’s suggestion. Steven had never heard of Ashford, but his father worked for the government, so his father probably knew a lot more than Steven ever would.
Steven’s mother was resistant to sending her baby to a boarding school. After some coaxing by Steven and his father, however, she relented.
Stephen was being sent to a prestigious boarding school on a full scholarship; the cover per Michael’s request.
Two months after the accident, Stephen was prepared to travel to Ashford. The morning he was to move in, he looked at himself in the mirror. His hair had grown back. It was stark white and coarse. Steven looked at his hair in disgust. He usually didn’t care about how he looked, but his new hair was the dumbest thing he had ever seen.
Beyond the Character:
Name: Emil (will accept the following: Lime/limE, Emile, Emilio, E, Em, anything else you can think of)
Chatango Name: Hilderinc
RP Experience: A bit over a month. I hope this doesn’t turn people off. I’ve been wanting to get into it recently, and I found this site, so yeah...
How did you find us: My girlfriend told me about this site. The premise sounded really cool, so here I am.
RP Example:
Steven felt anger rise within him; bubbling in his stomach. The sight before him was reprehensible. He sometimes wondered why he ever had faith in humanity, but deep down he knew why. Humans were beings who helped each other, aided the sick, the less fortunate. Humans had the capacity for great good. Criminals were not humans. Criminals were beasts; feral, rabid, almost begging to be put down. Humans were not capable of the evil he was witnessing. Humans were not capable of rape.
The woman was lucky that Stephen was there when he was. If he would have been a second too late, she would have been subjected to horrors far worse than she had already endured. The beast with the gun unbuttoned its pants, smiling like an insane dog. The beast never got its pleasure.
Steven emerged from the shadows, stalking towards the beast. His arms were enveloped in bright, white fire, his breathing heavy. “So,” Steven said, his voice low, trembling with rage, “now that you’ve had your five seconds of fun, why don’t I have mine?”
The beast laughed a stupid laugh. It shot three shots from its gun. The first two bullets Steven easily melted, but the last struck the side of his face, creating a deep gash. Steven touched the wound, chuckling deeply and quietly. “You think you can hurt me?” Steven shouted, as his skin healed, “You think an animal like you could possibly hurt me?!” Steven shot a ball of fire towards the criminal’s gun. The gun melted, as did the skin on the beast’s hand. The beast held his hand in stupefied shock. “What?” Steven said in a condescending tone, “Does the big bad rapist not have the mental capacity to know what I did to it? I burned your hand, filth.” Steven’s anger rose.
Stephen charge toward the beast, knocking it down. “And that’s not all I’m going to do to you,” he continued, “When I’m done with you, you’re going to. WISH. THAT. YOU. WERE. DEAD!!!” As Steven was shouting, he struck the criminal in the face, punctuating each word with a jarring blow to the beast’s skull.
Steven stopped, breathing heavily. The beast’s head was mangled and bleeding. It was whimpering, feebly attempting to protect its head with its arms. “And maybe,” Steven said, with a sadistic grin, “I’ll grant that wish...”
Steven shook his head with a start. The warm sun of the island bathing his body was the exact opposite of the dark, rainy alley he had been imagining. He had to stop. His imagination was getting far away from him again. Stephen didn’t understand himself sometimes. In real life, he knew that he could never hurt a fly, yet whenever he imagined punishing evil, he always saw himself being a sadistic vigilante who got his jollies off of making criminals suffer.
Stephen noticed the graphic novel in his lap. He continued to read it, but he was distracted by his daydream. He was very disturbed by them sometimes, wondering why he dreamed these situations up so often. Stephen knew that he had anger issues, but he never took his anger out on anyone, physically at least.
Maybe Stephen thought up these daydreams as a way to control his anger. If he imagined himself brutally punishing evil, maybe it would prevent him from ever physically hurting anyone.
Stephen closed the graphic novel. That was enough superhero antics for one day, he thought to himself. Steven stood up from where he was sitting, tucked the graphic novel under his arm, and walked back towards the school building.
