Here goes...
[hider=My Hider]
[b]“Better luck next time”[/b]
Name: Sultan
Race: Human
Gender: male
Appearance:
[img]https://pre12.deviantart.net/c1c8/th/pre/i/2017/224/1/e/me_in_digital_mode_xd_by_bintangkei-dbjrdeo.jpg[/img]

Magic:
  Schools: 
  Mental: 2
  Mana: 3
  Spirit: 3

Technique:
Scry -  Distance and matter does not bar my sight
Barrier - Solidify mana into an impenetrable wall
Expanded Cognition - Aritifcially improve cognition and awareness through magic
Thought Construct - Weave mana and spirit into a variety of semi aware magical constructs/spells

Skills:
  [b] Let us reason together[/b]: Profound deductive and inductive skills
  [b] The scientific method[/b]: Enthusiast knowledge in the sciences and their history
   [b]Let the games begin[/b]: A master in all manner of games ranging from poker to chess
   [b]Discipline[/b]: Has achieved mastery over oneself from a young age 
Bio: 
Were you looking for the story of an underdog. A story of victory paid by blood, sweat and tears? If so I would suggest you look elsewhere. Mine is of a boy who was born with a silver spoon, or even one might say a golden one.

I was not an accident... I am the result of years of selective breeding within the clan. Which clan particularly is not important. A designer child for the powerful, “perfect” in every way that mattered except one. I was supposed to be supremely talented in magic. In reality, my nascent aptitude in magic was unremarkable. Not a surprise, no one is quite sure what impacts the magical aptitude of an individual, or where in this scope do genetics come into play.

Something of a failed endeavor, I was mostly left to my own devices or those of many nannies. It was a good thing to have so many advantages, otherwise, I would have died from boredom long ago. My parents always off doing business somewhere other than where I was. Funny that… ha ha

Much of my formative years were spent inventing games for myself. There was only so many games of chess I could play against myself, my caretakers had already lost against me by the young age of six. 

I did begin to see some differences with normal children and me. I did not quite feel as strongly as other children did. I was far more rational than what was expected of a child my age. I did not fall into the whimsy of imagination. Not that that was required in the current age, the books had become all too real.

As I grew older I began to realize a certain apathy drawing over me, as if I was merely an observer. Looking in from the outside on the people around me. The teenagers around me all glowed with potential. As for me, I could not muster much of any enthusiasm, after all what was the point? What meaning did ambition, dreams or goals have? Maybe I’ll find the answer one day….

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