Alright, here we are. WIP because I'm bad at finding pictures. If you need me to change something, feel free to tell me.

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[b]Name:[/b] Elio Abbelman
[color=orange]"I hope you know what you're doing. Because I don't."[/color]

[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Age:[/b] 20

[b]Appearance:[/b] Short and scrawny, Elio looks a bit younger than his real age. His messy brown curls and faded clothes speak to his unfortunate circumstances, but his clear blue eyes shine with bright defiance. He doesn't have many sets of clothes in his beaten backpack, so his outfit coordination is sloppy at best. But he makes do with what he has.

[b]Personality:[/b]
Sceptical  |  Withdrawn  |  Persistent
Elio's youth belies a cynical sensibility, molded by his environment. He keeps his distance from others and treats things he doesn't understand with skepticism. The years have not yet blunted his optimism, but he has become more and more resigned to his circumstances in recent years. Nonetheless, the stubborness that comes with youth has not yet left him.

[hider=History]
It can be easy to think of the modern era as one no longer in need of magic. They had magic in a different form now, wondrous machines that did things their ancestors couldn't even dream of. But people never truly forgot their love of magic, the need of spirituality. In the age of religous freedom, when Christianity's tyrannical grasp finally loosened from peoples' lives, they were free to explore their spirituality in any way they chose. There were some who took advantage of this wondrous freedom, rekindling the ancient ways. They did what they could to stop these practices, pointing and rooting out cult after cult filled with arcane enthusiasts. But after years of chasing shadows, the general consensus was that these new beliefs were ultimately harmless. They were just chasing after the shadows of magic, rather than recreating it. Meditation, chakras, and energy were mere amusements in today's enlightened age. Flashy, insubstantial, and inexplicably popular. And when something so vacuous spreads its immense influence on the people, leeches would inevitably emerge. 

From the very moment of his birth, chaos followed Elio. His parents, poor by any measure, had spirited him away from the hospital he had been born in, in an effort to avoid adding a hefty hospital bill on top of their already sizeable debts. Their occupation was not a particularly prosperous one, but they were bound by their noble mission - to spread the word of the Chaos, to enrich the lives of others with their holy bible, that these lost lambs might find their fortunes by catching the winds of change in their sails. Missionaries, they called themselves. Scam artists, said everyone else. Elio spent most of his life in transit, moving from one state to another, hiding behind manufactured identity after manufactured identity. It was difficult making friends in such a volatile environment, doubly so when debt collectors were hot on their heels. Though, that only turned out to be part of the puzzle. Elio had no illusions about his parents' work, and though he wouldn't admit it, he had no small amount of hatred in his heart. Of them, of their circumstances, of many little things. But what could a child do?

The wayward family would stay in hotels, hostels, caravan parks, camping; anywhere they could get shelter. Formal education was an imposible prospect, due to their lack of permanent address and eternally inadequate finances, so Elio's parents gave him what scraps of wisdom they could. Somehow or another, he got used to it. As he entered his teenage years he even began to enjoy it somewhat. Unfortunately, the good times had to end at some point. When the family settled in an area, they tried to stay as long as possible. They didn't want to leave if they didn't have to, but when debts came knocking, it wasn't much of a choice. But sometimes, with no warning signs at all, they would pick up their things and leave. And one day, in the smouldering remains of one of their temporary camps, Elio had learned why. Smoke choked the air as his tent burned around him, heat rising through the soles of his feet from the blasted crater he found himself standing on. Fire raged through his veins, and he came to a dreaded realisation - the things his parents had told him, what he and the wider believed to be false, was true. Magic was real.

On seeing this, Elio's parents split from him, directing him to a certain place, supposedly a safehouse with some instructions. They said it would help him, and that splitting up would be safer. And before he could respond, they left. He journeyed to the safehouse, jumping at shadows all the while - there were too many things he didn't know. Somehow, a letter had arrived ahead of him, addressed to Elio by name. He found it very suspicious, but what choice did he have? He was on his own now.

Somehow or another, Elio made it to the cabin. Perhaps it had been the skills he had picked up during his turbulent upbringing, or maybe it was his newly blossomed magical talent. Either way, he was here now, and he had no idea what to expect. He could only hope that they had food, water, and a place to sleep. What more could a vagrant ask for, after all?
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[b]Equipment:[/b]
Knife
Trail mix
Water flask
Compass
Old nokia (low battery)
Leonardo Abbelman's Guide to Chaos Mastery, now available for only $10.99!

[b]Magic:[/b]
Elio Abbelman wields the mighty power of the Chaos Flame, an unpredictable and fearsome power, as likely to burn the user as it would his enemies. Based on pyromancy, Elio can build the flame inside his body, direct it to his hands (or other limbs), and release it. As for what form it takes when it comes out, only god would know. Speed, size, shape, and power all change inconsistently from cast to cast. There are limits to this, of course, and the spell's firepower generally will not be much higher or lower than his 'average' output. Elio's attempts to control this phenomenon ended in failure, but through the guidance of his parents' booklet, he can sometimes predict the end result before it leaves his hand.
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