Mark Tybalt

Male

22

6'2"

198lbs

New Student

Moderate Brown

Amber (Formerly Blue)

Caucasian - Indistinct/Varied

A physically adept younger man, Mark Tybalt is best described as athletic, with a build erring more on animal leanness and musculature; neither hulking nor abnormally thin, but displaying a sense of both solid, reliable agility and strength. While not immediately calling to mind any meta-human qualities, he appears outwardly predominantly human erring on the taller side and made most distinct by his closely cropped hair, clean shaven face and strong jaw. Perhaps most notable of his unusuality made manifest are the remnants of blue still present on the outer rims of his iris, leaving the rest of Mark's iris to sit uncomfortably in the realm of gold to amber - qualities quite rare in the normal population.

A general stance of indifference keeps with him, neither admitting and giving into his meta-human nature, but sure enough of his new found place in life to prove to mope. Subsequently, Mark rarely slouches or makes his stance readily approachable, often crossing his arms or keeping them anywhere that would prove inopportune, such as his pockets.

Dressing for functionality in the academy's Alaskan environment, Mark prefers earthy tones and inexpensive, oft bargain brand clothing. Most often preferring the functionality of cargo pants, hiking shoes, a tee shirt accompanied by at most a coat and ball-cap style hat, he rarely ventures outside of such choices, barring the opportunity to wear shorts and sandals - having become increasingly less fond of clothing since discovering his meta-human abilities and the destructive impact they often have upon it.

Carrying an olive backpack, neither for books nor study material, Mark instead brings spare clothes and not just for the weather, but for instances where he might prove to have the other set damaged or destroyed.

Owing to his age among his effective peers at the academy, Mark Tybalt has a sense of experience beyond most of them. In a way viewing the majority of students as "kids", he skirts the notion that it necessarily makes them inferior and instead treats them and what they say by taking a grain of salt with it; they lack experience and many are shining optimists compared to Mark's more down to earth perspective where while there's plenty of good to be known, there's also a lot of bad - maybe more. Not dwelling on the bad, the worst Mark has to offer is his suspicion of anyone involved in the academy, predominantly the staff but more so NEST's influence and role in the entire project. While willing to obey what he's told, begrudgingly, he's partial to slacking off or refusing to take part in an activity he's aware has no real impact on his status as a student as well as on occasion toward those that do; after all, to Mark, he's here for the certification to go back to living life, not for the prestige.

Emotionally, Mark Tybalt's feelings themselves have been tampered with on a basic level; his exposure to drift, even so moderately, has altered who he is at a fundamental level. Slightly paranoid, as aforementioned toward the academy itself, Mark isn't fond of people who he has remote reason to dislike - he avoids them, but remains watchful, motivated by a persistent underlying drive to not present them opportunity to close the gap. Moreover, Mark finds it problematic to deal with most strong emotions, instead deferring to instinctual reactions; much more so while maintaining the active use of any of his meta-human capabilities.

Mark however, does have a strong sense of self and a fairly pronounced distaste for schoolyard quarrels and the talk that often circulates among the school. Mostly taken from his father, a former service member, Mark comes across at times as having zero tolerance for bull; while not having gained in-human levels of insight, Mark's drift gives him subtle advantage in such situations. Exploiting this, it isn't uncommon for him to "correct" the problem in question with a verbal thrashing... or as much as he knows he can get away with without the academy's involvement.

When Mark was a child his father had trained him in the basic principals of firearms and archery - although not a marksman, the general ideas and concepts kept with him from his youth on. Having no such practice in years, little remains but the fundamentals, despite his renewed interest in the matter given the change of direction he has in life. Thus, given the environment of Alaska and the academy itself, Mark is not an uncommon archer - certainly good by human standards, but utterly paling in comparison to even the most mildly talented meta-human bowman.

Previously, prior to attending the academy, much of Mark's time was spent either drinking with friends or working; he had little time or money to invest in much else. Given that he's been distanced from his now former life and friends, as well as being barred from alcohol, Mark has begun to try scouting about for newer hobbies short of those prior - hoping entirely that the academy presents something to do that will catch his interest.

Short of his recently manifest feline affinity, Mark Tybalt's talents weren't plentiful - neither were his skills. At best a decent unarmed combatant, Mark has developed through drift an increasing understanding of his physical capabilities as well as those much more animal. Though unpracticed, he does show potential to learn if mentored in this realm.

What does require little honing is his rapidly evolving understanding of the predatory mindset; Mark Tybalt is becoming more and more the hunter, the apex predator simply through reaching out to the minds of those that are. Between his telepathic interaction with such powerful large cats, as well as ventures of his own whilst in feline form, Mark is a competent tracker and outdoorsman. Attempting to take heed of what he learns from the greatest source - those that use it to survive daily - Mark has made a few successful hunts without man made tools... as well as many, many more failed expeditions where his lack of experience has proven itself.

Of most value to Mark is a simple, unadorned silver ring along a silver chain necklace - an obscure family heirloom which his mother bestowed upon him.

Born to Arthur and Tiffany Tybalt, Mark Tybalt lived the vast majority of his youth as most any other child; he failed to readily excel in school, but did well enough to pass with successful marks where needed. Much of his early life, when his father was alive and quite active in his career, was spent moving from one location to another, leaving him mildly distanced from any long term friendships; the majority of his time spent with his mother, who attempted to tutor him where she could to make up for his lack of successful grades.

When arriving into the period just before adulthood he was presented with the option of attending college or joining into military service; taking the former, preferring not to follow down the same path of continuous work his father did, Mark preferred to live his life with a sense of freedom. While not oppressed by his father, just the environment of directness and order along with few recurring outlets pressed him into the notion that he needed an escape of sorts.

Sadly, during the first year of college, his father was killed in a car accident; the driver, not found at fault, left Mark with a sense of distrust toward any element or aspect of the life he had grown up around - that his father's inadvertent killer was not held more accountable.

Despite this, having taken a year off from school in response, Mark returned to his classes, but proved just as aimless and wandering as ever... even more so now that he lacked the pressure of his father. Drifting from major to major in school, nothing seemed to catch his attention or interest; what few "hobbies" he had short of spending time with friends, drinking or working all just filled a void that appeared to have no immediate or obvious end in sight. It had, more than he anticipated, dulled his expectations of life...

... until he manifest his powers.

Whether his father was a meta-human or not was unknown, but no indicators were ever given or noted, thus Mark's sudden departure into the realm of the beyond human was unexpected and abrupt. Startling, Mark had attempted to kill time as he oft did when all else failed by sleeping; in so doing, Mark's mind reached out abroad, tapping into an animal in distress. A cat, tormented by students on the campus, caught down a window well was whipped into a panicked frenzy. Blurred between dreams and reality, Mark's body reacted in his place.

He destroyed his dorm.

The sheer devastation of a force of nature such as tiger in a confined environment was obvious; everything and anything had been thrown over, clawed, rammed and otherwise damaged. The disturbance summoned the authorities, having heard of reports of some sort of incident or altercation in the wing, along with what was believed to be a wild animal - a large cat no less - there as well. By the time the responders had arrived, Mark's rampage had ended and it was clear the situation was far from the standard.

Directed by the Academy Program, Mark Tybalt was redirected to their detachment in Alaska to not only explore his ability, but to complete an education despite his age, as he requested the option to retain and utilize his meta-human qualities in the outside world.

Cerebral, Super-System

Feline Empath
Gifted with a sense of impossible knowing towards this family of carnivores, Mark Tybalt's empathy ranges from a mile long sense of location and gleaning of rudimentary understanding as to the animal's thoughts and physical condition, to complete psychic influence and communication. When permitted, his empathy even allows him to not only control the feline in question, but to find himself capable of even living vicariously through the animal outside of his own body. Moreover, not just a mental or emotional empath towards felids, Mark is perfectly capable of employing empathetic healing - through concentration and physical contact, he can restore wellness to the animal, mending even serious wounds through mental power alone. While many of his empathic abilities sap his vigor, leaving his more and more fatigue with added use, the most humble of his talents make him an innate friend to felids of all forms; a man quite literally capable of walking into the lion's den.

Feline Shape
Perhaps as staggering in human concept as the ability to live through the cat itself, Mark is capable of assuming feline forms. While limited to those at least roughly as large as he is, he is able to assume even larger cats such as the tiger with little initial effort. Consequently, Mark's shapeshifting powers are not friendly to many aspects of humanity, given that it represents a physical and even psychological change; over the course of up to a minute if not hurried, Mark can become the predator itself, specifying any detail of the feline form he desires during the transformation. The process, uncomfortable but not agonizing also recovers minor injuries and dampens trauma he's sustained, but draws from his endurance in the same manner that his empathic powers do.

Drift
"Drift", as it is informally coined, is the consequence of a human psyche being exposed to an inhuman, animal psyche over an extended period. It too has physical impacts as well as those mental, which are the most pronounced explicitly. In the case of Mark, his drift manifests as highly keened senses, physical conditions, and regenerative qualities; while not effectively super human, they closely borderline the absolute limits of what would be considered the norm for most human beings.

Both Mark Tybalt's empathic and shapechanging abilities draw from his endurance as a whole; tapping into them siphons mental, physical and emotional energy. Exhaustion and weakness are great dangers, as by pushing the animal to its very limits, he easily surpasses those of his human limits. Heightening them, such as living through an animal itself, leaves his human self in a suspended, temporarily comatose state - the same can be said for rapid shapeshifting, wherein hastily assumed feline forms in a short time can render him incapable of functioning normally upon returning to his normal self.

Mark's ability to heal or manipulate felines is limited to the animals themselves; he is neither capable of influencing persons such as himself or those with a feline calling. Although capable of sensing them, he gains no indication of their thoughts, let alone even the capacity to contact them through telepathic means. Just so, his ability to greatly increase recovery and heal cats of all sizes is limited to just how severe the injury is; Mark's extent of wonder working cannot return the dead to the world of the living.

As one can assume, Mark is incapable of speech when either controlling a felid and acting through it, just as he is unable to speak while in the form of the animal himself. Moreover, Mark's ability to control the animal or live through it is at the permission of the beast itself - it is a matter of relinquishing control and made up of the cat's trust.

Drift is as much a detractor as it is a benefit; its prolonged exposure can severely alter and change the individual both physically and psychologically, causing them to become further distanced from their humanity. While Mark Tybalt only suffers mild to moderate drift, it has jaded him and his personality, inspiring mild aspects of paranoia and suspicion, a sense of superiority over human beings owing from a predatory mindset, but most of all moderate amplification of standardized emotions; hostility when pressured or confronted abruptly is not unusual, as is the "fight or flight" behavior.

Whereas Mark's drift only poses minimal dangers to himself or those around him by comparison, the very nature of his abilities as an empath and shapeshifter rely upon his human endurance. He, as otherwise just a human in near optimal condition, neither has the strength nor endurance of a tiger, thus pushing that form to its physical breaking point greatly punishes his human aspect should he return to it without first resting as the cat itself. More often than not, such extreme exhaustion results in total, crippling weakness for hours if not days.

The background nature of his empathic sense - the ability to simply "know" a feline's location and condition out to a mile - makes strong emotions potentially overwhelming should he be directly "touching" the mind of the animal through telepathy or control. What it feels, knows, experiences and does he too can tap into - the sole sensation of the separation being a dullness to this mental input. Subsequently, Mark Tybalt could suffer psychic backlash; injury to the animal so severe that it causes violent death undoubtedly would, at least, incapacitate him, if not outright render him briefly unconscious.

You are too certain of what it is you are doing. Be more certain of what it is doing.

"How?"

Watch as it moves, when it lends itself vulnerable. Anticipate where it will go - where it feels safe.

The conversation between mentor and student went. One, honed through age and innate understanding, with the other naive and lacking in application. It was without words, mere thoughts that drifted across the wind in absolute silence. It stirred, not for a moment, what both had set their eyes upon... an elder boar, whose health had becoming failing with age. Neither observer moved as its head bent low to the ground, their breathing quite steady, just as their footing.

No, I doubt that.

The response followed the urge that the student had, the notion that the animal in their sight would travel between the thicker foliage when it had the opportunity to bolt into a small divide among the trees. The mentor, without pause, had subsequently noted wherein the animal was far more likely to travel.

It was because of this they moved, only so long as its large round eyes remained away from their direction - each step perfectly silent, planned, methodical. It failed to notice their approach, rooting the damp earth with its large, curved tusks.

"Is this close enough?"

Closer. Be certain.

Steadying in breath, they moved again - so close did the student feel, that it was as if he could reach out and touch the mark. Its head lifted, snorting and scenting the air, aware that danger drew close, but not knowing as to where or what. Each of its dark eyes close as it prove to stomp and turn about - it was then the student was spurred to strike, when its back proved exposed. It was a blur from there, as if he no longer held control; he knew what it was he did, but as he eased his mind, the mentor finished the effort.

In its mouth, the jaguar tightly clutched the throat of the prey, with paws splayed wide and claws sunk into flesh.

Mark watched down the cat's muzzle - his muzzle - as the mentor tightened his jaw. It was both a fascinating and terrifying experience, for from two angles did the young man now watch what is was he had put into motion; one upon a boat, drifting along the river, filled with tourists to include himself, the other, the jaguar whom he had lived through just now. Even as a human he could taste the boar and feel its struggle wane; the sound of its breath in his mind alongside the clicks of cameras and the awing of mouths.

The cat across the shore? It held low over its prey, maintaining its grasp and tightening its bite by the moment.

My trust was not misplaced.

With its comment, the jaguar proved to disappear into the brush again - this time with a meal in tow.