[center][h1][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/165088-project-p-h-o-b-i-a/ooc]_PROJECT: P.H.O.B.I.A._[/url][/h1][/center] [hr] [center] [img]https://em.wattpad.com/3b9c72ee09a0794c0a334f186be5e53d6a886ade/687474703a2f2f33382e6d656469612e74756d626c722e636f6d2f65613536343736313035373533366132643963396336373165336363323332622f74756d626c725f696e6c696e655f6d756c796f6d79777970317166376770752e706e67?s=fit&h=360&w=360&q=80[/img] [hider=Extra Cal][img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/e6/06/07/e60607b3528e411e072b846bc2618c55--bad-boys-viria.jpg[/img][img]http://i.imgur.com/Xfp3zTL.png[/img][/hider] [b][h2][quote= Calixto Diodoji] "Sarcastic? Me? [i]Never.[/i]"[/quote][/h2][/b] [color=f7941d][h2][b]Name[/b][/h2][/color] Calixto Diodoji [color=f7941d][h2][b]Age[/b][/h2][/color] 20 [color=f7941d][h2][b]Phobi-ability[/b][/h2][/color] Pyrophobia [color=f7941d][h2][b]Personality[/b][/h2][/color] Cal can come off as snarky sometimes, but really he's just trying got mess around. He does what he wants, which gets him in trouble sometimes. It seems like he never really grew up with his back comments and whenever he speaks his mind. Maybe he never really grew up because of what happened at a young age. Or maybe he did, and he's just trying to be the kid he never got to be. He's kind at heart, it's just that his past haunts him. [color=f7941d][h2][b]Relations[/b][/h2][/color] [i]ALL DECEASED[/i] Marie-Ann Diodoji (mother) Abel Diodoji (father) Rosie Diodoji (sister) Alex Metahpol (ex-boyfriend) [color=f7941d][h2][b]Backstory[/b][/h2][/color] Cal was born into an "average" family. Not terribly rich, but not terribly poor. In a house with two stories, a mother, father, sister, and brother lived. Abel, the father, was the worker of the family. Marie-Ann was the stay at home mom. Calixto, the brother, was two years older than Rosie, the sister, and the two quarreled often, but still loved each other. It was at the ripe age of seven that Cal discovered something [i]beautiful[/i]; the dance of an open flame. At the end of every day, after dinner and before bedtime, the family would sit in the living room; the fire lit, Marie-Ann sitting in her rocking chair and knitting away, the kids sitting before Abel from where he sat in his own big chair with a storybook in his hands. That night, it was Rosie's turn to pick the story. She usually picked the same one, and Calixto had finally grown tired of it. His eyes wandered from his father to the lit room before finally settling on the flickering fire. His eyes watched the flames dance, going at their own pace and rhythm. They danced to their own song, the crackle of the wood. After Abel finished the story, the kids were tucked into their beds. But that night, Calixto could not sleep. He tossed and turned, still thinking of the people dancing merrily in the fire. And so, he greedily stepped out of his room and snuck downstairs. He stared at the hearth, where the flames had died. There was still the faint glow of the embers, the dying song of the fire people. He wanted them to live and sing and dance again, just like in the books his father had read - happily ever after like everyone should live. The boy took the matches from where they sat on the shelf above the fireplace and snuck back into his room. His heart pounding furiously, he slid open the box and took out the magical stick. The fact that something so tiny could hold so much power fascinated the seven-year-old, but just holding that power wasn't enough for him. He struck the match against the side of the box, and the flame child rose once again. The boy held the small stick close to his face, watching the small child dance, and he gave himself a small giggle. But the boy was foolish. Even though he knew the power of the match, he had forgotten the power of the flame itself. It reached its end and he gave a small yelp, dropping the fire child. Excited for more fuel, the fire child invited everyone onto the bed of Calixto, and soon the whole room had erupted with the dance once again. Entranced by the flame, but knowing his danger, Cal ran for his window and scampered outside. Breaking his arm, he began to cry, rushing away from his average house and his average family. An hour later, Cal sat in the back of an ambulance with a blanket around his shoulders. As the vehicle drove away and the paramedics began asking him questions and attending to his broken arm, he watched his average life burn away. Calixto Diodoji never saw his house or his family again. But he knew what he had done. And he'd never forget, even through the various orphanages and foster families and school and bullying. He knew. [color=f7941d][h2][b]Theme[/b][/h2][/color] [url=https://youtu.be/lz10F2Rtqv8]Innocence[/url] [color=f7941d][h2][b]Misc[/b][/h2][/color] -He prefers to go by Cal -He labels himself as bisexual, leaning more towards boys -Cal has a mini-music player he has on him at all times, along with a pair of earbuds that have lasted way too long -He drinks if he wants to (even if illegally), and doing so will make him a little more suseptiable to creating flame -Cal doesn't like to talk about Alex Metahpol -Other things will be added here as the roleplay continues [/center]