Conflux

Caelbury Academy

Will be coming up with a post later-ish

The Mundane [Small-Town Teenage Superheroes]

oooo new characters. :o

Running Like Clockwork(High Fantasy/Steampunk)

Color me interested.

What Are You Listening To?

Academy of Heroes & Academy of Villains: Something Very Different

Gonna place my interest (from the previous thread) here as well.

Academy of Heroes & Academy of Villains: Something Very Different

Why would two threads be necessary? Also, if you're looking for interaction between the two schools, I feel like two separate threads would cause more confusion.

@BreakingMe

I agree. IC locations can just be specified with each post made. Making another thread would just come out as something rather superfluous and will make the entire RP difficult to handle, especially if you're talking about setting interactions between two schools. Best stick to one thread in my opinion.

Academy of Heroes & Academy of Villains: Something Very Different

Somehow interested.

Argus: Olympian Intelligence

,

The Mundane [Small-Town Teenage Superheroes]

Location: Home -> The town Clinic (for a monthly check-up)

Interacting with: Anyone

Bryce woke up, eyes wide open and heavily gasping for air as if he had been recently submerged underwater. He let his senses pan out, veering his sights over to his bedroom door and then onto his closet. Nothing unusual. Perhaps there was just something that made him snap out of his sleep. Whatever it was, he won't be bothering himself to seek any reason as to why it had occurred, not like it was his priority or anything. Hands clutched to his blanket, he exhaled a breath of relief before shutting his eyes close once more.

Then his bedroom door creaked.

Normally Bryce would just shrug it off, assuming it all naturally occurred. He wasn't terrified all of a sudden though, he had his fair share of experiences, hearing similar sounds in the past even when he was still living in Chicago. He was instead bothered, annoyed for the most part knowing how such things could potentially interrupt his sleep. He brushed it off from his thoughts and let it sink away. Then he noticed something, and as soon as he did, a hint of his own fears provoked his intuition. He couldn't move and his breaths started to run thin.

He could only move his eyes and his mouth to let himself breathe freely, but the rest of his body was numb, as if every inch of him was pinned down to his bed and wasn't allowed to get up. He took a quick peek of his bedroom door and surprisingly found it to be widely open. No creaking sounds whatsoever, or at least none were heard before the recent one. He then felt a sudden shiver, like a swift, unseen movement breezed by and hid behind him. That was when his thoughts began crumbling in terror. He wanted to get up. He tried to squirm his way out of his bed, wiggling his toes and tried to pull his weight up. None of it worked, he still felt paralyzed and helpless. He wanted to shout for help, but shortly something crawled in, as it were someone else's presence. Then he started feeling weak, perhaps so weak that the strength he had gathered to shout was all drained out. Afterwards his eyes met with an image, a humanoid figure that slowly marched in from his bedroom door. It was a being of darkness, completely wrapped in shadows. It had eyes as red as blood and a mouth so wide that its smile reached halfway to its cheeks. It stopped as it came near to Bryce's bed, fixating at his terrified condition as if he was kidnapped.

Whispers were heard thereafter, indistinct and cryptic. Bryce didn't know where they were coming from, not even from the creature since it remained smiling. They were like segments of hushed conversations conjoined altogether, portraying a message he had absolutely no idea of. However, the voices slowed down shortly and as it did, the shadow creature moved over. Its head elongated, stretching forward to Bryce and stopped once it was a few inches closer to his face. Bryce, while lying helpless, could only do so much as to breathe anxiously.

As the creature sloped its head, it unleashed a terrifying scream. A scream that may forever scar Bryce's sleeping experience. He closed his eyes, trying to let everything subside entirely and let his body move. He squirmed and squirmed, struggling to let himself free from his numbness and make a run downstairs. Nothing happened. Bryce was on the verge of breaking down, he couldn't fully deal with his own fears much less with the shadow creature. He was powerless, unable to do anything to break away from the coiling nightmare. If he had one wish that could be granted instantly, that would certainly be to move freely.

As he opened his eyes, he met with the creature's face but his smile was gone and was replaced by a frown. He couldn't discern what it was going to do next but for certain, it didn't look quite satisfied.

"It's time," the creature said, its voice was low and guttural like it had a throat infection. "We will see each other again."

Bryce was followed with a prolonged shrieking sound that nearly pierced his ears. He could feel the motion of his head as he twitched consistently and gritted his teeth from the pain the sound gave. After that, he woke up, shouting as he lifted himself up from his bed and kicked his blanket aside. He breathed heavily, composing himself within the next following moments.

What he just experienced was something he never wanted to happen again but after remembering the words of the shadow creature, it's doubtful that was the last of it.

---

---

The day was nowhere near unusual, not that it was something to be worried about. It was calm and crisp. The sky was in clear azure sight and the breeze was warm and lively. Chewie was playfully active, so there was a distinct indication that the day would turn out to be great as usual. He was jolting around in circles, greeting passersby with gleeful barks and a gaze that would surely make them stop by and adore the little guy. Surely, it would be lonely if he wasn't around. Playing with Chewie often gave him a nostalgic feeling of Chicago along with his siblings, all whom he spent his entire childhood with. It didn't mean that he was eager to return or anything. In fact, it was his father's wish to move at his grandmother's place but he dearly missed his brothers and sisters and waiting for a day to reunite with them felt nothing more than a distant occurrence.

Chewie stopped all of a sudden, as if he spotted someone or something hostile. Bryce was familiar of this behaviour but by judging if what Chewie spotted was hostile, it wasn't most likely the case.

"What is it boy?" Chewie wasn't barking or anything, he just stared at something blankly and as Bryce bent over to brush his back, he wobbled his tail and continued walking.

The clinic wasn't far enough. It was only a few walks from Bryce's home. The doctor was a friend of Bryce's grandmother and ever since the start of his monthly check ups, he clearly understood why they were such. Before stepping inside, Chewie started to bark aggressively and his nose was pointed towards the people seen from the glass windows of the clinic. There were a lot of them. Now, Bryce was a monthly visitor of the place. There were times when he even visited on a weekly basis but seeing people with that particular number was something he haven't seen in a while.

Did something happen? He asked himself, unaware of the recent events around town if ever there were any.

Chewie didn't stop barking and only did nothing but increase his aggression. Bryce carefully hushed him, rubbing his back. Chew chilled but his aggression was toned to into suspicious snarls. Bryce could only stay watchful of his behaviour but nevertheless, he went inside the clinic.

It was a busy environment. There was no nurse at the lobby who could re-confirm his planned appointment with the doctor. Bryce stood, clueless as to what was happening.

"Uhm..." He turned his head to one side and then to another, still looking for someone who could put him in the right direction. "Okay Chewie, seems like everyone's busy."

Oblivious still, he shrugged and raised a lopsided smile. Best he could do was to sit down at the waiting area until everything was settled. Whatever happened, it sure gave one heck of a commotion.

Caelbury Academy

mofo's done. his history ends weird but just ignore that ;D

Al Nolan

They called me mad, and I called them mad, and damn them, they outvoted me.
-Nathaniel Lee

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Name

Albert Kyle Nolan

Nicknames

" Al " - The typical nickname for anyone with the name 'Albert'. He was first called this by some kindergarten bullies, and while he thought it was an insult at first (after all, they ONLY insulted him back then) the name later grew on him until he instructed everyone to use it. Al prefers this name to any other title given to him, and insists that all of his closer friends and even enemies refer to him as such.

" Noll " - Taken from his surname, Al was often called this by teammates and acquaintances. He has nothing to sya about it, and merely thinks it to be a simple, underused nickname.

" Fuckhead/Fuckboy/Dick/Asshole/Waste-O-Space " - These are all various names Al is called on a daily basis.

Age

17

Gender

Male

Sexual Orientation

Bisexual

Grade Level

Senior

Social Class

Gifted - Though Al was born to a lower class family, he was able to enter Caelbury thanks to his unique Eidetic Memory. Al is able to remember almost anything with intense clarity if he reviews it at least ten times, and thanks to this he was able to stay at the top of his classes with minimal studying. Countless IQ tests and local news articles contributed to Albert's rise to popularity in the academic world, and he was eventually accepted into the prestigious school of Caelbury.

Appearance

Al is considerably attractive despite his incredibly foul mouth. Square-jawed and bright eyed, if not for his belligerent personality he could have been a much more popular teen. He stands at about 5'10", though often looks much shorter due to his horrid slouch, and is rather well-built thanks to his daily morning jog. Narrow eyebrows frame his handsome face, and his eyes are often wide and glaring with a horribly-hidden intelligent light. He is often seen wearing a killer smile, though shadows of sleeplessness clearly stand on against his pale skin, and though he clearly knows he is a man worth looking at he rarely does much to adjust his appearance.

Dirty blonde hair is often hidden beneath fashionable snap-backs and his bruised arms are always covered with large, obnoxiously colored sweatshirts and jackets. Al tries his best to afford clothes that suit his fashion taste, but due to his frugal upbringing he is not one to spend too much money on apparel. Though many people consider his tastes to be rather eccentric (or gaudy), Albert clearly pulls it off well enough to gain some attention, and that's enough to keep him working towards his fashion goals. Other then all that, Al has a few old scars from childhood scrapes, and he can sometimes be seen wearing thick reading glasses when studying.

---

"Yeah I'm a genius of sorts, what of it?"

---

Personality

Albert has always been considered aggressive. As a child he held tight to a loud, rude howl and hefty fists, and his attitude towards other grew as his body did. He had always been an odd child, one who didn't seem to fit into any particular 'clique' for some parts of his life. First he would be an average bad boy, a rude-mouthed white boy with a harsh view on the world, and then he may swap over into his more thoughtful state, where his eyes trace lines ten whole times as a test for his own abilities. Intelligent is something many people consider Albert to be, but really he is just "spewing out what he's read before". Though his mind stores knowledge like a memory bank, he usually has no need for it in social situations, and as such he often comes off as a bit dim when speaking casually. Albert often says he has no filter, which is rightfully so. He speaks his mind whenever given the chance, and doesn't even seem to realize this until it is too late. Of course, this makes him an extremely honest kid, but his bluntness can lead to severe relationship damage.

Though Albert lacks any sort of tact, he is considerably loyal to his friends. Life running around with rowdy boy groups and gossipy gal pals in Jersey has definitely strengthened his belief in trusting those who pledge to be a friend. Though his times with his Jersey pals have since been snipped away thanks to his massive move to Caelbury, he looks back fondly on the few friends who cared for him, though he would never say that out loud.

In public Al is withdrawn and prickly, shooting down any shady individuals with sharp glares and harsh words. He is especially abrasive when alone and surrounded by strangers, and is quick to insult those who even slightly rub him the wrong way. An aura of distance glows from him, and even closer friends know of his generally repressive ways when it comes to emotions other than anger, annoyance, and contentedness. This is Al's way of coping with his general self-loathing and insecurities, of course. He has an intense vendetta against himself and his mind, and he is often at odds with himself mentally, though he often takes time to make himself feel better by pointing out the imperfections of others.

Bully-like and oddly witty, Al enjoys making snide remarks at those who have either wronged him or look like they may wrong him. He never forgets a face (though he does have trouble putting names to those faces due to his ever busy mind), and if he is taken advantage of or made fun of by a certain looker he will gladly return their spite ten fold. Despite this, Al has often protected those he deems 'worse off than him' and seems to have something against bullies who take out their frustration with thoughtless violence. Life is constantly against Albert, well, that's what he thinks anyway, and as such he is stupidly cynical whenever he's got the choice to be, and because of this he has trouble making friends. Those who do end up enjoying his company, though, may find Albert to be a smarmy, playful kid, with a thick Jersey accent and a mouth that could rattle off the most useless information the world has to offer.

Likes

• Music (classical and hip hop)
• Money
• Cats
• Picking fights
• Driving
• Cold weather
• Hats
• Alcohol

Dislikes

• Other drivers
• New Jersey
• Beaches
• Loud, sudden noises
• Math
• Loud music
• Smoking
• Super bitter foods

Fears

• Loud noises (Bells, gunshots, ect.)
• Deep water/oceans
• Sharks
• Being alone in a crowd
• Complete darkness

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"Hey babe, nice ass! Why don't ya back it up over here?"

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Strengths

• Academically Inclined
• Honest
• Protective

Weaknesses

• Blunt
• Cold
• Insecure

History

Albert Nolan was born in a nice house to a couple that was rotten together but fine on their own. He remembers the house briefly, oddly enough. It stands out like a broken light compared to the other thoughts he can't seem to get out of his head, and any time spent in that home has quickly been out shined by the divorce of his parents when he was a mere first grader. At that time, his mind was yet fully developed, and he could only remember certain sections of the events that followed after. One of those sections being his big move.

Paterson, New Jersey isn't what one would call a nice city. Scaffolding, barred stores, and trash heaps, this is what Al remembers most from his hometown. Shirley Nolan, his mother, had decided to move back into her mother's apartment after the divorce due to her current mental issues and lack of work. Gloria Nolan was a woman with a harsh tongue and small-minded views. She loved her daughter dearly, too dearly maybe, but seemed to have some kind of vendetta against Al. Perhaps she could only see the man who broke her daughter's heart in him, but whatever it was that led to her distaste for Al remained mostly under lock and key.

Albert excelled in two things during his elementary and middle school days: Making enemies, and academics. His mother often called him a 'little brainiac', though she was obviously a bit concerned as to how he could be so gifted in subjects like reading in math with his attitude and views towards school. His abilities weren't truly realized until a contest in his sixth year of schooling. Dubbed "The Memory Contest" by his middle school, the point of it was to memorize a piece of literature picked out by the judges and recite the whole thing for a small monetary prize or a few gift cards. Albert, of course attracted by the thought of money, signed up immediately and brought the news to his mother, who in turn helped him study. Everything seemed normal at first, until, of course, Albert recited the whole piece after only looking over it nine or ten times.

Needless to say, Al won first place in the contest, astounding both his family and the judges alike. The local paper spoke of his accomplishment briefly, but word got out to some interested doctors who eventually came to Al with some memory tests to take. He passed with near flying colors, and his mother was later informed that he possessed a photographic memory. Albert loved the attention he was getting, of course, and took the time to show off more of his skills with more contests and tests, until he was a well known topic around his neighborhood. There were times even his grandmother was impressed, but they were fleeting and often ended with Al getting more verbal abuse.

Caelbury's first letter came in his freshman year of high school. His mother ran to him with tears in her eyes, flailing the envelope in front of him as she cried: "My baby's a genius, a damned genius!" The prestigious school had kept tabs on Al's sudden fame in the academic world, and had offered him a full ride to their school for the remaining three years of his high school career. Brief discussion with his mother son lead to Albert getting in contact with the school, and a year later he was shipped off across the state, leaving behind gangs of friends and enemies alike in favor of California sun and high-class cafeteria food.

His first two years were spent brooding away, studying half the time and partying the rest. He started to miss the Jersey slums after his first month, and he found that all the pretentious rich kids that swarmed the campus couldn't beat the poor mates back home. Keeping with his theme of being a dick to most, Al made few friends and many enemies, but despite all that he stuck around. Couldn't hate living in style, after all.

Favorite memory

Being accepted into Caelbury. Though he may be exaggerating, Al believes his acceptance was the best moment of his life, and being surrounded by rich, somehow similar assholes folks has really helped Al grow into his abilities and new found interest in school. Though this is his favorite memory, Albert rarely speaks out about his love for Caelbury, and when asked about his opinion on the school now a days he merely shrugs and says the first insult that comes to mind.

Least favorite memory

His parents divorcing, which ultimately lead to him moving into a shitty neighborhood with his depressed mother and verbally abusive grandmother. He will always remember the day he saw his father walk out on them,and he won't forget the tears in his mother's eyes when she realized their once pristine marriage was finally over.

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"What'd you call me, punk?"

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Birthday

March 3rd, 1998

Astrological Sign

Pisces

Twitter Name

@Ally$Cat - Twitter
Al_Nolan - Instagram
Albert K. Nolan - Facebook
jer$eyb0i - Snapchat

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"Just cause I'm from Jersey doesn't mean I'm super aggressive, you fuck."

@Liriia

waitaminute, he's not British? ༼ つ ಥ_ಥ ༽つ