Made a guy. Hope you like him. He and people should be friends.

Name:  Orion Ellis
Gender: Male
Age: 17

Personality: Cool is probably the best word to describe Ellis. No necessarily in the positive social adjective, though it often translates to peoples' opinion. Regardless of how others take it, however, Ellis is always cool. He seems to act with ease regardless of circumstance, always centered, always certain. Even in his most passionate moments, Ellis projects a sense of unerring poise and commitment. Of course, this does not always translate to his internal disposition and humor. In fact, Ellis takes considerable and increasing pains to project the image that he is painless, while the vagaries of the Conveyance eat away at his sense of reality and self and cast him adrift into what he is growing to fear might be most accurately be described as insanity.

Appearance: Ellis is a typical youth in many respects, preoccupied with his own sense of style while still conforming to the predilections of a particular subculture, in his case, Ellis exemplifies the archetype of the black, nerdy, hipster, with hand me down jeans, ironic t-shirts, and an aloof sensibility. Here is him trying to look cool.
[img]https://worldofblackheroes.files.wordpress.com/2010/08/alexwilder1.jpg[/img]

Tether: Ellis’ mind is impregnated with a fragment of the Conveyance, the, or at least a, language of creation. The single note of phoneme has opened his understanding to truths beyond the mundane banality of reality, enabling him to perceive the supernatural with clarity in spite of his lack of natural talent. It also causes him unpleasant headaches.

Ability: Ellis’ connection with the Conveyance has allowed, or perhaps more accurately, forced him to perceive the underlying language of reality, able to see the interconnected code of existence. Consequently, Ellis is privy to information about the world around him that he otherwise could not, or should not be able to know, both mundane and supernal.

Unfortunately, the ability to perceive this information, which slithers into his mind unbidden, presented as notions of symbols alien to all human language, strange colors that cannot be seen by the human eye, and other more esoteric media still, is almost impossible for Ellis’ to translate into any meaningful way. He may know that the old grocer at the locale supermarket puts him in the mind of a strange, vaguely goose shaped symbol and a shade of red that seems more emblematic of blood than the color of blood in the real world, but Ellis has no idea what any of it means. Ellis has begun to understand some of the eldritch information that bombards him, some repetition of forms that he has come to denote the concept of feelings of anger, the strange keening tones that seem to emanate from locked doors and windows, but practical use of most of this information eludes him.

Furthermore, the information presented to Ellis is distracting, his performance in school, on the practice field, and other areas has dropped as he tries to cope with the unbidden knowledge bombarding him at all time. If anything this interference is becoming more difficult for Ellis to cope with, a prospect that frightens him deeply.

Talents: In spite of his nerdy mein, Ellis is remarkably athletic. He enjoys skateboarding and soccer in particular, as well as his more extraordinary extracurriculars, and benefits from a certain degree of natural talent, all of which adds up to a degree of speed, strength, and stamina that exceeds the average lackadaisical teenager.

Ellis is well read, he enjoys his studies and has a deep fascination for the world around him. This plurality of interest, however, does not lend itself to intense focus upon a singular subject giving Ellis a broad, but sometimes shallow knowledge base. The only thing that Ellis is very well versed in is the occult legends, urban myths, and supernatural folklore of the mortal world. How accurate any of this information is, however, is suspect when presented to one privy to true supernatural perspectives.

Ellis has a very nice voice, an agreeable enough personality, and an inoffensive appearance. Ellis has found that most people seem to like him and trust what he has to say, willing to listen to him and take his side on a multitude of issues more often than he, frankly, thinks that they rightly should. Ellis is a terrible liar. Also he can play the double bass, cornet, and sing rather well.

Recent history: Ellis has always been a pretty normal kid, painfully so, in his opinion. His parents were always decent and divorced. His life was filled with the normal, subjectively spectacular experiences of most children. He never wanted for much nor was given any great advantage or luxury. The only thing about Ellis that was really atypical was his dissatisfaction with how typical his life seemed. Since as long as he could remember, Ellis has been fascinated with stories of the strange and the occult. Not particularly stories of fantasy, but rather, those tales, often dark, of where the supernatural ran abreast of mundane reality. Ghost stories, surrealist literature, paranormal conspiracies all fascinated a young Orion Ellis and that obsession continued long into the approach towards adulthood. His mother thought he would grow into a troubled teenager, painting his fingernails black, listening to angry music she didn’t understand, but he never did. His father worried that he might become a social outcast and unable to relate to his peers, but Ellis always got along alright. It wasn’t a fashion of lifestyle that Ellis was interested in, it was the purity of the ideas.

Ellis’ great grandfather always encouraged his interests, always finding some obscure tome of early american mythology, unpublished manuscript compilations of H.P. Lovecraft, curious little trinkets attached to some odd little traditions of Maine superstition, which he would give to Ellis when the family would annually visit. Ellis always loved visiting his grandfather. The old man was himself like the gifts he gave, old, mysterious, and just close enough to the uncanny that Ellis always had the sinking suspicion that the venerable ancient knew more than he would ever reveal. Almost a year ago, however, Ellis’ grandfather died unexpectedly, Ellis was heartbroken. Family came from all over North America for the funeral. Most came out of simple affection and familial obligation, though it didn’t hurt that Ellis’ grandfather was quite wealthy. This too was surprising, for as far as Ellis had ever known, the old man had lived alone in a small cabin in the northern reaches of Maine, almost anachronistic in it’s ausere and frugal accoutrements. But apparently the man owned a great deal of property, including vast stretches of the Maine wilderness. As the family worked out the will and details of dividing up the man’s possessions, Ellis found himself bequeathed a portion of the man’s property equal to that given to the other great grandchildren, but also a small package set aside shortly before the old man’s demise.

Ellis doesn’t remember much after that. He had opened the small, brown paper package in the bathroom of the hotel the family was staying at, while his parents socialized with the rest of the relations in the reception room rented for the wake. The package had been small, squarish, almost like a book, but it was heavier than a book, and he remembered thinking that he felt like more than one object, bound together tightly by the paper and the thin string it was tied together with. He had opened the package and then Ellis still cannot remember what happened after that. The large gathering of distant relations dispersed, Ellis and his parents drove home, they didn’t talk much. Ellis didn’t have the package anymore, or whatever was inside of it. He could not remember what had happened to the package. His parents never asked. He didn’t know what had been in the package. He felt like he didn’t know much of anything anymore. 
Three days after opening the package, the headaches started. Four days after that he started to see and hear and smell and taste and feel the Conveyance. It started slow at first, little flickers at the corners of his eyes, sub voce sounds he could only hear when he plugged his ears and concentrated, subtle flavors that made him wish unconsciously for a mint. But the sensations have grown in magnitude over the last several months. He went to a doctor for the headaches, the doctor posited a dietary imbalance. Ellis did not mention the other sensations. He hasn’t told anyone about them. He hoped they would go away. They have not. They have grown stronger. Ellis world is no longer mundane. He’s starting to wish it still was.