[hider=Chase McKormic] [u][b]Basic Information[/b][/u] [b]Name:[/b] [INDENT]Chase McKormic[/INDENT] [b]Nickname/Alias/Etc:[/b] [INDENT]Sometimes Dozard. Assigned codename: Fetch.[/INDENT] [b]Gender:[/b] [INDENT]Male[/INDENT] [b]Age:[/b] [INDENT]22[/INDENT] [b]Height:[/b] [INDENT]6'0 ft[/INDENT] [b]Weight:[/b] [INDENT]154 lbs[/INDENT] [b]Type:[/b] [INDENT]New Student[/INDENT] [b][u]Appearance[/u][/b] [b]Hair Color:[/b] [INDENT]Dirty Blonde[/INDENT] [b]Eye Color:[/b] [INDENT]Green[/INDENT] [b]Ethnicity:[/b] [INDENT]Caucasian[/INDENT] [b]Physical Appearance:[/b] [hider=My Hider] *I had a sketch for this, but the guidelines call for real pictures only. Apologies, but I can't search the internet for selfies of random dudes. That's just...weird.* [/hider] [INDENT]Chase looks rather unremarkable from most angles, another guy stuck somewhere between teenager and young adult. He is of a lean, sub-average build that defines the stereotype; a bit too thin for his own height with medium-length sloppy hair in a near perpetual state of bed-head. Thin faced and square jawed, Chase has the beginnings of a five o-clock shadow, but it never seems to grow more for reasons that soon become obvious. For the same reason, he also boasts excellent dental health, and has no scars, tattoos or other identifying marks. Chase has clear skin with a moderate tan that doesn't seem to darken or fade unless he's embarassed or holding his breath, also believed to be a fortunate consolation prize of his condition.[/INDENT] [b]Attire:[/b] [INDENT]Chase prefers simple attire in the order of jeans and t-shirts, occasionally with the complement of a hoodie or jacket if he has one at his disposal at the time. He has never had to dress for a formal occasion and doesn’t own a single shirt with buttons. Due to his upbringing, Chase doesn’t have any desire for designer clothing and is perfectly happy wearing the cheap, second hand and unavoidably disposable. It’s a special occasion if he’s seen with both clothes that fit correctly and shoes that don’t talk. If you do, take a picture–it could be his birthday or something. Obviously, Chase doesn't wear or own jewelry like chains, rings or watches. [/INDENT] [b][u]Personality[/u][/b] [b]Innate & Outward Personality:[/b] [INDENT]Despite a bad habit of poor English, a marked lack of social experience, late formal education and an inner anxiety, Chase tries his best to be outgoing and friendly around others even when he doesn’t feel comfortable himself. His efforts are met with varying degrees of success depending on the amount of cheap one-liners and dry observational sarcasm the room can handle. These crutches only get him so far, however, because once the conversation turns to more detailed areas of social interaction–popular music, sports, video games, technology, movies, current events, partying, girls–Chase becomes as clueless as a dog in a room full of laser pointers. With his speech habits and lack of general knowledge outside of his prior GED courses and current classes, Chase can sometimes comes across as a dim individual, but he’ll often prove to be surprisingly thoughtful and insightful of others. Chase can generally be found in a happy mood, sometimes whistling off-key when he believes nobody’s looking. He doesn’t blame society or others for the discretions in his past life, and he doesn’t like to linger on it even if someone close to him pries. With his nigh-impermeable armor of wit and sarcasm, Chase deflects the bad in a situation like a train repels BB’s. Chase is anti-confrontational for the most part, preferring to avoid or defuse arguments and fights whenever possible. He is not cowardly–far from it in truly dangerous situations–and isn’t afraid to get physical when all other options fail. When someone manages to find a chink in his plate mail of hopeless optimism, the results are never good. The jokes and sarcasm come to a halt and Chase shows glimpses of feelings he prefers to keep buried. He becomes an opposite of his usual self; quiet, depressive and self-destructive. [/INDENT] [b]Skills/Talents:[/b] [INDENT]Unfortunately, Chase’s list of unique skills is decidedly short. He cannot play musical instruments and has no artistic ability. His handwriting alone is terrible. Chase didn’t get the chance to attend public high school or make friends at an early age, leaving him almost no experience or expertise at sports. Though he is mostly untested in the aforementioned category, his tendency towards clumsiness doesn’t bode well for his potential team mates. Despite his lack of skill or knowledge of the rules, Chase would at least try if asked to participate in sports, but he wouldn’t go out of his way to find a game. He hasn’t ridden a bike since he was thirteen and doesn’t know whether he can still swim or not. Again, this comes as more a result of his condition rather than being a shut-in. When he’s not in the company of people he manages to befriend and the novelty of television wears off, he has been known to read a book or venture out for jogs.[/INDENT] [b]Prized Possession:[/b] [INDENT]Chase shows very little attachment to personal possessions. If his dorm caught fire in the middle of the night, he would only stop long enough to grab a few pictures. One item Chase keeps in his possession at all times, although it’s far from a prized idol, is a specially calibrated metabolic chronometer and GPS unit with wireless monitoring capability. It is attached to his left wrist with a sturdy elastic band and displays a row of colored LED’s for easy reading by anyone in plain view. The band itself is anti-absorbent and machine washable. [/INDENT] [b]Quote(s):[/b] [INDENT]"If I had a hundred bucks fer' every time I wished fer' a pair a' pants, I wouldn't be homeless." "We're gonna need to put down a tarp or somethin'. Get one fer' the cielin' too. And towels, lots of towels."[/INDENT] [b]History/Bio:[/b] [INDENT](Actual IC history from prior RolePlays) Chase started life as a normal single child of a low income family and his earliest memories are of his first and last home in a trailer park off route 70 in Texas. Normal life fell out from under him the summer before ninth grade when his condition came out of dormancy. Believing their son was having some form of massive stroke or seizure, Chase’s parents attempted to rush him to the hospital. Halfway down route 70 to Wichita Falls, Chase experienced his first transformation, resulting in a high-speed roll over accident involving one other vehicle. His father died on the scene before paramedics could arrive, his mother passed away eighteen hours later at Kell West Regional hospital. Chase survived the accident, but he did not learn of his parents’ fate for three weeks. When Chase was found twenty days later by park rangers in Ouachita National Forest, Arkansas, the authorities transported him back to Texas where he learned of his parents’ deaths. He had no other living relatives, so he was immediately sent to social services to await placement in a foster home. He never made it. Six days later, the incident happened again and Chase again found himself several hundred miles and two states West of the Wichita Falls orphanage with little to no recollection of how he arrived, or where his clothes went. When he sought the help of authorities once more, he was placed in a cell without being given a reason until a security team arrived to take him into the custody of a shadow market biological research firm subcontracted through The Hands of Science. There, he was shipped back and forth between their complexes around the country for three years. At age seventeen, Chase escaped the Larson Biotechnical Lab of Jackson, Wyoming in shifted form. When he ‘awoke’ again, Chase quickly decided the life of a homeless person a far better option than being kept in a concrete hole as a sub-human lab experiment. He stayed homeless and on the run for a sixteen months until he slept in a certain Miss Shelly’s car one night to get out of the rain. She found him the next morning and, in an incredibly odd turn of good luck, Miss Shelly was actually a shifter herself in league with a different research organization dedicated to helping individuals with similar problems to Chase’s. There, Chase was able to see–for the first time–what sort of creature came out of his transformations. In time, he was not only able to learn what triggered the changes and the nature of his other self, he also caught up on the common academics he missed from high school. Before leaving this organization, Chase managed to earn his GED and twelve credit hours of college courses for animal biology. In recent months, Chase had begun inquiring about other academies or institutes that specialize in supernatural cases. It was then that one of the transfer tech’s told him about Academy 218. [/INDENT] [b]Family:[/b] [INDENT]Charles McKormic (Father, Deceased) Janet McKormic (Mother, Deceased) [/INDENT] [u][b]Relationships[/b][/u] *He hasn't met anyone at academy 218 yet, but he theoretically will. [b][u]Abilities[/u][/b] [b]Power Class:[/b] [INDENT]Super-System[/INDENT] [b]Power:[/b] [INDENT] [hider=Shifted Reference] *I know you said real pictures only, but the techs had trouble finding a good shot of a real wingless dragon.* [img]http://i304.photobucket.com/albums/nn190/Immortaldeadfast/Dozard%20greyscale_zpstgtsoham.jpg[/img] [/hider] Chase’s shifts are triggered by a build-up of biological energy gathered through his normal metabolic intake. Due to this reason, he cannot trigger a shift either at will or under stress. Likewise, a shift cannot be suppressed for more than a few moments. Average gestation periods between transformations to “Dozard” form range from four to eight days, depending primarily on Chase’s activity level and caloric intake. A four CC injection of glycoadrenal catalyst 18, a special artificial blend crafted by the chemists at his prior institution, is also capable of bringing Chase to a transformation thresh hold within minutes. The exact formula is known only by a handful of individuals and is kept on tightly secured remote servers for research or emergency purposes. The transformations themselves are particularly gruesome, violent and very painful. Young children, the elderly and the faint of heart are advised not to bare witness. Chase is typically paralyzed in agony for the duration of the change, and it is at this point that his memories of the event lapse almost completely. The creature that emerges from the shift is an exoskeletal quadrupedal that somewhat resembles a western style dragon without wings. A typical Dozard stands at roughly four feet in height at the front shoulders, with a body comprised of brackish, overlapping biological plating and eyes that burn with varying shades of orange luminescence. Dozard is remarkably strong with his primary defense being his brutish power, claws and rows of mono-molecular edged teeth. Secondary to those is are heightened sensory perceptions of hearing, sight and smell. Standing as an immediate threat multiplier, Chase’s runaway metabolic reactions persist even after he has already changed forms: If Dozard acquires enough sustenance in a given time, the creature undergoes secondary transformations which result in immediate, viral-like boosts to Dozard’s size and strength. It is a definite plus for all parties involved that Academy 218 is situated on an island; virtually eliminating the sizable fuel required for secondary shifts. Shifting to or from either form mitigates any damage Chase/Dozard may have received prior. In an emergency situation, a catalyst-induced shift can be used to bring Chase back from the brink of death. Historically, this has occurred only once. Dozard is immune to illness, disease, viruses, toxins and radiation exposure. So far, this is the only trait Chase is known to share in both human and shifted form. [/INDENT] [b]Limits:[/b] [INDENT]*I read somewhere about this section being optional. Dozard has plenty of limitations, and they sorta fall under weaknesses and drawbacks. See below.*[/INDENT] [b]Weaknesses/Drawbacks:[/b] [INDENT]Although Dozard’s level of intelligence is difficult to pin down at best, he most often shares the demeanor of an overgrown, unruly canine. Thus, his nickname Dozard: a dog and a lizard. He cannot communicate in responses other than various growls, rumbles and snarls. Though Dozard and Chase seem to share entirely separate personalities and memories, Dozard is often quick to recognize individuals Chase knows as a person. Dozard's bulk and exoskeletal body come at the cost of speed and utility. In a hurry, he tops out somewhere near a jarring, lumbering lope the average human sprint could outpace. In addition, his weight keeps him from climbing all but the sturdiest of obstacles and swimming is a lost cause. Dozard doesn’t respond kindly to aggression of any sort from strangers, regardless of actual malicious intent or just another case of human panic. It is critical to note that, to date, Dozard always attempts to eat what he kills. New parties meeting Dozard are advised to bring his favorite peace offering to ensure their continued safety in his presence (Butterfinger candy bars). The energy required to maintain Dozard’s body is insatiable. If not given sustenance, Dozard will backshift into human form in a matter of hours. However, this also means he can remain shifted indefinitely under the proper conditions. Dozard loses size and strength as his body burns through its supply of fuel, leaving Chase exhausted, starving and lethargic upon reaching human form again. [/INDENT] [b][u]Other:[/u][/b] [INDENT]Chase chose to attend Academy 218 to further his education, but primarily in attempt to learn more about his ‘other’ self. His hope is to gain some conscious control over the creature while shifted. Additional files and research reports available to administration upon formal request.[/INDENT] [b][u]Sample Post:[/u][/b] *A sample? Did I forget to give you my card? Fair enough then. The following is a non-combat excerpt from an RP performed live over instant messenger. The contents of the other author is omitted, and remember, I was firing from the hip here. I didn't have all this cozy forum time to polish and refine.* [INDENT]...Chase silently watched the incoming prisoners file around him through his peripheral, but he couldn’t help noticing that one of them remained still. Against his better judgement, he looked up and was temporarily taken back by who he saw. It was a girl, or a young woman, not a great deal older than himself. His focus turned to the guards giving her the dirty eyes and when she noticed Chase watching the proceeding, he couldn’t keep a look of pity off his face. He felt sorry for her, even though he was stuck in the same situation and had nothing to do with her being here. Why was she even taken, Chase wondered as he glanced back down at his half-finished tray. If it wasn’t for the understandable look of despair and disgust on her face, she looked perfectly normal and healthy; as if she was hauled right out of her own bed. [Co-author reply Ommited] Chase stole another glance at the new girl. Like many of the others that had come and gone, she showed no interest in moving through the slop line during this first visit. This wasn't good. Sometimes new prisoners would try to starve themselves as a grim way out of this hole. Chase waited a few more minutes before looking again. Damn, she still hadn’t moved. Clearly, most of the other prisoners were more content in watching the show than warning her. ‘Why do I always have to be the good guy?’ Chase sighed to himself as he gathered his tray and stood up. He could feel the eyes of the guards and half the prisoners on him, but he didn’t care. Chase knew he wasn’t human, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t act like one. Slowly, Chase crossed the mess hall to her empty table and eased down into the seat across from her. “You should eat, or least’ pretend the first couple times,” the dirty teenager whispered without looking up at the curtain of hair covering the girl’s face. His voice was a bit raspy and had the obvious twang of someone who missed far more than their fair share of school days, “They git mean if you go too long without eatin’. I tried it once.” [Reply Ommitted] Chase ran his free hand down the back of his neck–a habit he developed when he wasn’t sure what to say–and stopped when his fingers ran across the cold, metal collar clasped there. It was capable of providing a painful, paralyzing shock, but he was almost certain it had other purposes besides remote controlled corporal punishment. “You might git’ away with it this time,” the kid whispered again, “But I wouldn’t skip tomorrow if I was you.” Chase fell silent for a few moments and stirred his artificial potatoes with his plastic spoon before taking a slow bite. He hated to admit it, but even this luke-warm, miserable mire was superior to the stuff he was used to digging out of the trash or begging from restaurants. The girl had still barely moved, and the kid could feel her lack of appetite rubbing off on him. She seemed so miserable that Chase simply had to say...something. It wasn’t in him to say nothing. “...Fer what its worth...I’m sorry...” [Reply Ommitted] When the girl started crying, Chase kept his eyes on his plate and waited in silence. He could guess what the girl was upset most about; aside from her freedom, she probably had family out there looking for her. It was the kid’s one armor against the prison; his folks were long gone before he ever came here. Even the food couldn’t phase him. However, this nameless girl sitting across from him did. For a moment, Chase thought about getting up and moving, to give her some privacy, but that didn’t seem to be the right thing to do either. In the end, there was nothing Chase could do to help her. He only sat and waited until the girl’s sobs slowed before speaking again. “...The name’s Chase...most of the time.” The kid timidly introduced himself without looking up. If she was willing to talk, Chase thought it might help to occupy her mind with something besides whatever she was thinking now... [/INDENT] [/hider]