[hider=Chris][h2]Chris Linklater[/h2] [hr] [img]http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X9Ln-rMr3Lc/UZqVRmDtL6I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/Wr_xBbqOwKo/s1600/Freewheelin_NYC_Feb_1963_9.jpg[/img] [hr] [b][u]Name:[/u][/b] Christopher 'Chris' Linklater [b][u]Age:[/u][/b] 24 [b][u]Eye Colors:[/u][/b] One is brown the other is blue [b][u]Personality[/u][/b] Chris is a very depressed person and as such, puts on an act of normality around other people that can sometimes slip and reveal his true, depressed nature. Most of the time, he tries to act happy around other people, often cracking and laughing at jokes he may or may not actually find funny in order to hide his actual feelings. He can often be seen smoking, a habit which he both hates and loves at the same time. Occasionally he will display his depression outwards, but he does try his best to keep it inside. He generally tries to do what he believes to be good and right, whether it be giving change to the homeless or attempting to save someone from being hit by a bus by using his powers. [b][u]Type[/u][/b]: 1 [b][u]Abilities[/u][/b] Psychological: Chris is able to influence people through the use of his music and slightly through word of mouth. Along with this, he also seems to have the ability to slow time for himself, allowing himself to move the slightest bit faster when slowed. This is not noticeable by anyone who is not trained to spot that kind of stuff. His power is amplified by his feelings, so if he is in a fit of rage his power of convincing will be more powerful. [b][u]Bio[/u][/b] Chris was born in Mayerthorpe, Canada on a snowy night in December. His father, an engineer had always tried to push Chris into manual labour and jobs in that area. Of course, he failed as Chris was much more interested in reading and playing music than he was interested in sports. As a result, he was often ostracized and had a very small group of friends because of the limited and small population of the town. He was very close to the friends he did have though and they would often meet up or talk to each other using their phones or the internet in their spare time. Chris' first love arrived in Mayerthorpe when he was about 15. She was rather shy, but so were quite a lot of Chris' group. Their mutual shyness combined with similar interests made her feel very welcomed within the group. She instantly clicked with Chris who was more than happy to strike up a friendship with her. Of course, the friendship led to flirting which then led to a more serious relationship. It was a bit awkward at first, they both knew they had feelings for each other, but most of the flirting they had done had just been playful teasing. They were both afraid that the other didn't share the same feelings. They both revealed their feelings on a snowy night in January when, impulsively, she kissed Chris. That point was the happiest time in Chris' life. He had someone who truly loved him and someone to love. They continued their relationship into their late teens, when disaster struck. News about 'The Gifted' was being broadcast all around the world. And when Chris discovered his power when he was around 17, his girlfriend was the only one he told. Of course, she kept it a secret to protect him. When she got her mutation when she was 19 though, things were less than great. Her mutation was based around fire control, the problem was, she couldn't control it. She managed to hide it for a few months with the help of Chris, but eventually things got out of control. It started with her being able to manipulate an open flame, make it dance and move and such, but it soon escalated to the point where she was accidentally creating fires from nowhere. She was of course, caught in public accidentally shooting flame from her arm. She was detained by the local police and special officers sent by the government arrived within a week to 'put her down' as they put it. Chris visited her every day in prison before her death and was there to shout support as she was brutally shot. After this traumatic event Chris was, of course, left depressed. He left home with a small amount of money that his parents had given him and headed for the states. He began to busk and play bars for cash at nights and eventually settled down in Manhattan after he was offered a steady job at a bar. He's been living there ever since, hiding his power as best he can. [b][u]Post Example[/u][/b] The light shone brightly upon the rather scruffy looking man as he strummed his guitar and blew into his harmonica. Stopping occasionally only to sing a line or two and then return to his harmonica playing. His jacket was laid on the floor of the stage next to his stool and if he were a fatter man his white T-shirt would have been sure to have some sweat around the pits. Chris finished up his set to meet the applause of the almost empty pub. He sighed, loosening his harmonica holder and putting it into a pouch on the front of his guitar case. He packed away his equipment, sliding his harmonica into his jacket pocket before hanging said jacket over his arm as he made his way to the bartender. "Just a coke, to go, Bill" He spoke, his voice was high and heavily accented. He took his coke and left enough change on the counter to pay his tab. Chris exited out into the cold, damp Manhattan air. It had been raining recently and the puddles on the ground were proof enough to show it. Chris pulled his jacket over him, glancing at the flickering neon light of a diner across from the bar he had exited. He rubbed his eyes, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter with his other hands. He took a cigarette from the packet, placing it in his mouth. He raised the small, green plastic lighter to his mouth and lit the cigarette. The smoke snaked through the air, escaping into the bitter night air. Chris' eyes glanced upwards at the smoke, he sighed, blowing smoke through his nose as he stuck his hands into his jacket pockets and began to walk back home. The sound of his shoes squelching on the wet ground was practically the only noise filling the night air. Occasionally a car would speed by, tires rolling through shallow puddles that would almost splash Chris. Chris paid no heed to the cars other than a quick glance to the driver. He sipped his coke as he made his way home. A few minutes later and he was home. His flat was small, but it was enough. It could be considered tidy, the only really messy part was his bed which had not been made since the night before. Chris pulled off his jacket and chucked it onto his couch. He made his way to his bedroom and slumped onto his bed, fully clothed and stared at the ceiling. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and put it out in an ashtray next to his bed. His eyes slowly closed and he fell asleep. [b][u]Other[/u][/b] [b][u]Theme Song:[/u][/b] [url=https://vimeo.com/39267368]Don't Think Twice It's Alright[/url] [/hider]