Harrison Cain Sol

Ford, Harry, Solo, Harrison Jones

18

Male

Demisexual

Senior; 12th

What would be the aptest descriptor for Harrison? Something that people tend to associate with the 6'0" figure?

Probably a Labrador, especially when he smiles and lines stretch across his prominent cheekbones. That could likely describe his entire person without a lick of deceit. He bounds into a room with a literal hop, straying from here to there on the balls of his feet. Always with a smile on his face, accompanied by the brightest look in his eyes. And his eyes too. Indescribable, almost. Like looking out the window of a jumbo jet and seeing waves of dark blue aching to trap the sunlight in its depths. It's as if you dip under in the middle of the Atlantic and despite the salt you can see clear beyond the dots of white clouds and all you see is the faintest shimmer of light sinking deep, reaching with grasping hands to pull secrets from beneath the sea floor.

Anyone supposes that's Harrison in general; curiosity likes to pinch the point between his brows and curl his nose into little frown lines. His nose a perfect angle, straight and narrow bridge to tip, unlike the way his eyes deceive him. All of it leaning into plush lips, chapped from a constant stretch over teeth and bitten into by a chipped canine. It all blossoms beautifully, a smile to outline his cheekbones and the curve of his jaw, always dusted with fragments of blondish-brown hair, and his eyebrows forming lines and dashes across his forehead up to the curl of his feathered hair, blonde from summer, but a natural sandy brown.

Within an instant, Harrison bounds with every inch of his body from point to point. A runner's frame used to full capacity almost every waking moment until, like a toddler, it doesn't realize it's been exhausted of all its faculties until Harrison falls face first into a pile of pillows. There's never a hint of a slouch or hesitation in the bundle of his body, even as it curls and prepares itself for a day of full speed ahead.

A Labrador seems apt, if not perfect in every way.

Even high energy has its disadvantages. Sometimes you find yourself running on fumes. And then sometimes turns into a lot of the time. From the moment Harrison wakes to about the point he falls asleep—using the literal sense of the word fall here—his energy level never seems to drop below that 100 mark. Harrison's been very well known for faking it till you make it, in terms of staying at 100% at all times. Never let go until it's the only thing standing between you and a restful night's sleep. Restful being four hours tops, most likely. If he's lucky. Being in the spot light means 'on' and never turning off until the light itself turns off. Sometimes that's never. Play it up, keep your eyes on them, and usually that'll sate them.

People like that often tend to put their appearance at the top of their priorities; having people see them when they're at their lowest, most vulnerable can cause alarm, which turns into panic. Living most of his life this way, Harrison has a very astute knowledge of how to play people. Not often in a way that's malicious, Harrison mostly uses manipulation as a mean of deflection. When the unwanted questions start coming, Harrison stalls, observes, and then plays to his strengths and knowledge. The better he knows the individual, the easier it is. Both parents see this as a means of gaining traction in their business, making puppets out of people and entire companies until, eventually, they have so many people between them and the competition that it might as well be over before it starts.

On the other hand, their son merely sees it as a means of defense. That's a lot of what Harrison is made of: a hardy defense of steel walls casting shadows over an entire stretch of land. Many people don't seem to realize Harrison keeps the distance between him and them at an ocean's length. And maybe that's best, being on a lonely mountain with a smile on his face and no one within range to stick a dagger in his back. Lonely seems to be the right word, even if all people see is a smile worth a million or two.

Faith, not having a plan of escape, and putting 100% of his trust into one person

"Pretty sure my parents got replaced by robots."

Being head of a corporation instills the ruthlessness of a Roman general. Add to that the fortune of old money—inheriting a Fortune 500 company and wealth—giving the delusion of ultimate transcendence and one has been awarded a quality human being. Not all people remain the same, but money and power tend to continue changing an individual for the worse. Which could be said of Harrison's parents, Raymond and Lea, and their parents before them. A child couldn't outright notice the nosedive in morality his parents took, didn't understand who they were before the corruption became absolute. Harrison knew only the cold efficiency of two people parading as parents. The smiles came on in public, a semblance of a happy family, and Harrison learned quickly that giving out his heart freely meant being burned freely.

That face slowly became Harrison and what he stood for. A flashing smile in hopes of distracting from questions verging on personal. A hope for a mostly uneventful life, lacking in the eyes of his parents acting as scourge and whip and keeping his name off the tabloids. But also lacking in praise and acceptance, of which he craved so much. That constant fear, however, remained very real and very true. Either life in the limelight, people singing praise and expecting a bleeding heart, or one of constant shame and eventual disowning.

Thus, even though these thoughts came a little later in life, Harrison stuck to his guns. Never an exceptional kid, Harrison preferred attention in small doses. So, he passed through his adolescence as his an ornament for the Sol family: a bright young boy with a future ahead of him. And thus, once such things as CEO and stimulus and profits became a staple in his vocabulary, Harrison keenly accepted his fate. Whatever his parents had planned for him, he likely couldn't escape. Though, the fear still remained and added to that, Harrison feared becoming a ruthless machine such as his parents became.

Education took a hit once Harrison's worries came to the forefront of his mind, which only increased the negativity addling him. Fortunately, Harrison's parents ran into an unfortunate incidence, threatening to bite them in the ass for their misgivings. And thus, they looked toward their son, who'd arrived upon a quiet blessing. Despite his lack in academic performance in the recent months, Rodevolf saw an opportunity in the Sol empire's heir. They likely expected him to show his parents, of which they gave the opportunity. Either their son or a lawsuit that, should they lose, put them in the dirt. Harrison fully expected them to decline, but their sudden plans weren't for from him potential reactions. Of course, both opportunities granted to him seemed too good to be true, or to pass up and the years at Ashbury did nothing to solve the issue.

Either merge Rodevolf with Solcorp and be free to do whatever he wished. Or, remain in the fresh (for an energy corporation) new business and help it catch fire throughout the United States and hopefully have something to be proud of.

Oddly enough, the memory that sticks out the most is a date. Harrison's distrustful nature leaves a lot to be desired in the romantic department, but this particular one came on an impulse. A young, rising star had proposed the idea to him during a hockey game in L.A. The man in particular, Joel Bailey, bet that if the L.A. Kings won then Harrison would have to go on a date with him. If they lost, then Joel proposed he reveal himself to the crowd outside the skybox and let himself be mauled by adoring fans. He agreed, seeing as the Kings were down by 2 in the 2nd quarter.

Unfortunately, they made a miraculous comeback in the last, having exhausted the opposing team's defenses enough. And Harrison would be subjected to a date he really didn't want to be on. Or, well, he'd assumed, having only known Joel for a day.

And then the man showed him the Arizona sky well nearing midnight once they'd arrived in the desert just outside of Yuma, settling into the dunes and watching the stars slowly roll by. He laid in the sand with a guy he barely knew, holding hands and watching the milky way's arm dip into the horizon on his 18th birthday.

Harrison can remember what his mother looked like when he was four. He'd been able to climb from his spot at the bottom of the large fridge to the top, where his mother hid cookies in the cupboard there. He'd sat on the counting munching them when his mother found him, crumb faced and wide eyed. She'd furrowed her brow and looked just about to explode until she realized what he'd done and scooped the toddler into her arms for the first time and kissed him half to death.

He remembers smelling her perfume, a soft cherry blossom scent. He remembers brown hair tickling his face and a her freckled nose bumping into his cheeks. And her praises, soft and assured as if she'd seen her son climb a mountain. Then he didn't know why she'd been rewarding him.

Now, though, he understands. He'd been innovative as a toddler. He'd saw an obstacle and he overtook it. And what a wonderful trait for the heir of a multi-billion dollar company. What was once a good memory became tainted and, whereas his mother's perfume is still stuck on his nose, her now hardened, stone like expression that comes with it, makes him sick to his stomach. He wanted a mother so much. All he got was a marble statue, caste by Michelangelo but given no love between the cracks on her surface, not like David, not like the stricken, bittersweet beauty of Pieta.

A research institution and energy conglomerate, Rodevolf, ran by Daniel Rodes-Wolf, leads the movement and push for clean energy, hoping to make solar power and wind both more capable of providing for large cities and less costly. A haughty endeavor which has picked up traction over the years, gaining most of its consumers along the west coast.

Mr. Rodes and his husband Mr. Wolf have had a run in with Solcorp, ran by Harrison's parents, along the border of Mexico in both New Mexico and Arizona, having bought out land they'd staked a claim for and using it to run a solar farm themselves. Having been slighted by the ruthless leaders of Solcorp, Rodevolf have offered a leading position for the heir via Ashbury. After showing the e-mail to both parents, it had been determined that Solcorp would gladly offer their son as a kind of peace treaty between competing companies.

Of course, Harrison is yet another piece in his parent's elaborate game.

January 11th, 1997

Capricorn

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